


The Prisoners

by Blue_Lacquer



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Background Het, Canon Compliant, Gen, Mentors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-08
Updated: 2011-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:04:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3396257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Lacquer/pseuds/Blue_Lacquer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mai and Ty Lee are trying to adjust to life in the Boiling Rock when they learn they're being transferred to the prison near the Fire Nation capital. Mai's uncle has rivals among his fellow wardens who demand that they be removed from his custody to avoid a conflict of interest. At Warden Poon's prison, Ty Lee finds new, unexpected friends in the Kyoshi Warriors and is comforted by being closer to her family. Meanwhile, Mai meets some of the oddest people she's ever seen: water benders from a swamp in the Earth Kingdom. She even becomes friends with one of them in particular, who challenges her pessimistic view of life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [](http://avatarbigbang.livejournal.com/profile)[**avatarbigbang**](http://avatarbigbang.livejournal.com/) 2010\. Many thanks to [](http://lavanyasix.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lavanyasix.livejournal.com/)**lavanyasix** for beta reading.

Mai sat on the floor of the cell, back against the wall, hands folded in her lap, eyes closed. She and Ty Lee had been dumped in a holding cell hours ago to wait while the guards scrambled to get the Boiling Rock back under control. The first successful escape from the supposedly escape-proof prison—a very public, very dramatic escape—had driven the inmates into a frenzy. The alarm had been clanging for so long she barely heard it anymore.

So far, she had not thought much about what happened. She had a dim awareness of cosmic irony in saving her boyfriend’s life after he broke up with her in a letter, but that was it. Exhausted and hungry, she didn’t care to think about anything else today. Or tomorrow, or the next day, but she knew the luxury of ignoring what had happened would be short-lived. She would take the chance not to worry while she had it.

Ty Lee did not want to seize such an opportunity for herself. She hadn’t stopped pacing and fidgeting since the cell door closed. If her wrists weren’t shackled, she would probably be somersaulting. Her arms had been bound behind her back, but she slipped her hands around to the front after the guards left. Mai’s weapons had been confiscated. The female guards thoroughly searched her, although they stopped short of having her disrobe completely, since she was still a noblewoman and the Warden’s niece. There was very little for them to find, since she had used most of her arsenal in the fight on the gondola platform.

Perpetual motion finally stopped working as an outlet for Ty Lee’s nerves. She blurted, “How can you just sit there half asleep?”

“I’m tired,” Mai answered, not moving. “The adrenaline rush of betraying my country wore off.”

“We are in serious trouble! We’re going to prison!”

“We’re already in prison. They just haven’t given us uniforms yet.”

“This isn’t funny, Mai. I can’t believe you’re making jokes after we’ve committed _treason_. That’s the worst crime there is.”

Mai almost said ' _No, there are worse_ ,’ but her eyes opened before her mouth did. Ty Lee’s face shocked her into silence: her zealously cheerful friend looked almost haggard. She stood up and said, “Look, freaking out right now isn’t going to do us any good. You need to try to stay calm.”

“How am I supposed to stay calm? We’re going to prison. _I’m_ going to prison! You heard Azula. We’re never getting out.”

“Ty Lee, if you keep this up, your skin is going to break out.”

“It won’t matter if it does _in prison_!”

“You really mean you don’t care about your complexion anymore? You’d be fine if your face looked like it was growing lychee berries?”

Ty Lee looked disgusted at the idea. “No. I don’t want zits, even in jail.”

Mai waved a hand at the wall. “You should sit down and rest while you can.” Reluctantly, Ty Lee sat. Mai followed.

Ty Lee stared forlornly at the bolted door opposite them. “How much longer are we going to be in here?”

Mai shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“The warden’s your uncle. Don’t you know what he’s going to do with us?”

“The first priority now is to stop the prisoners from trashing the place. He’ll deal with us when that’s done.” She pressed her back into the wall, stretching a little.

“And then what?”

“Well, unless Azula decides she wants to pick out our cells herself, he’ll find some place for us.”

Ty Lee chewed her lower lip for a second. “Do you think he’d…you know…let us escape?”

“No.” The fact that Ty Lee even considered this reminded Mai that, in some ways, her friend’s family had spoiled her. Mai may have had more material possessions growing up, but Ty Lee had far more freedom. After all, her parents allowed her to remain at the circus she ran off to after they had satisfied themselves that she was not in any danger. Ty Lee’s mother had told Mai’s that it was best to let the girl “get it out of her system” while she was still young. Mai continued, “Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. It would look too suspicious. He’d be removed as warden, for negligence at least, even if no one believed he intentionally let us go.”

“What do you mean, even _if_ he wanted to? He doesn’t even want to?”

She gave Ty Lee a steady look. “You said it yourself. We committed treason. We—well, I—aided and abetted an escape from his own prison. My uncle’s spent his entire life punishing people for breaking the laws of the Fire Nation. He’s not going to let anyone just get away with it, even family.”

Tears brimmed in Ty Lee’s eyes. “He’s going to hurt us?”

Mai quickly put up a hand. “I didn’t mean it like that!” Her uncle Izo had a reputation as the meanest, toughest prison warden in the Fire Nation, a reputation suitable for the man in charge of the meanest, toughest inmates. But now he was caught between loyalty to his country and loyalty to someone he loved—a problem that seemed to be going around lately. She added, “He’s just not going to leave the side door unlocked for us.”

Ty Lee sniffled and rubbed her eyes. “Do you think Azula’s gone?”

“Probably.” Azula would most likely leave as soon as another airship arrived so she could track down her brother before he got too far away. Mai did not say more. She did not want to think about Azula chasing—and catching—Zuko.

“Do you think we could escape on our own?”

Mai’s answer was a simple no, but she said, “Not for a while. Everyone is going to be watching us carefully. Especially you, with the chi-blocking.”

Ty Lee said quietly, “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in prison.”

Mai shifted uncomfortably, annoyed by the guilt she felt. She didn’t ask Ty Lee to intervene. She never imagined Ty Lee would cross Azula for her sake, or anyone’s sake. She reminded herself that none of this would have happened if Zuko hadn’t run off to join the Avatar. Or if he hadn’t broken into the Boiling Rock for…she didn’t even _know_ why. Or, at the very least, if he hadn’t gotten caught doing it. If this was part of a plan, it was a stupid plan. But Zuko apparently hadn’t known her uncle was the Warden. She shouldn’t be surprised—Zuko had never met the man. Her family didn’t talk much about her uncle’s profession, mostly because her mother considered it déclassé.

Ty Lee added, glancing at Mai, “But I couldn’t just stand there while Azula…I couldn’t live with myself afterward.”

This comment inspired a new thought for Mai: this was Azula’s fault. If she hadn’t left Zuko to die…

But regardless of whatever stupid and crazy things everyone else did, Mai’s decision to act was her own. Of course, the first time in her life she decides to take a stand, she ends up in prison for life for it. She said, “Neither could I.”

“I understand.”

The alarm finally stopped. Ty Lee leaned her head on Mai’s shoulder, and they sat in silence for a long time.

Heavy footsteps approached the cell door. Ty Lee quickly shifted her hands behind her back. Three guards entered the room, two looking menacing, the third trying to look menacing while carrying two bowls of steaming food.

The acting waiter set the bowls down on the floor. The other two watched Mai and Ty Lee keenly, poised to fire bend at the hint of a hostile move. The smell of hot noodles made Mai’s stomach rumble, but she kept her eyes on the guards. She doubted they would try to harm her or Ty Lee—not while her uncle was still the Warden—but people did foolish things when they were angry enough.

The guards, having finished their errand, cautiously backed out of the cell. Mai cleared her throat loudly and asked, “How is my friend supposed to eat with her hands cuffed behind her back?”

The guard who carried the noodles said, “Your hands are free. Why don’t you feed your fellow traitor?” The other guards snickered as the door closed.

Mai rolled her eyes. Ty Lee pulled her hands around to the front again, and said, “I’ll manage.”

After she finished her noodles, Mai’s eyelids grew heavy. Ty Lee started yawning. Mai turned to her friend to suggest they get some sleep, and saw that Ty Lee had nodded off sitting up, her head lolling to one side. She eased Ty Lee onto the floor. Then, she stretched out and closed her eyes, resting her head on her arms. The last thing that drifted into her mind as she faded from consciousness was how sleeping next to Zuko felt like sleeping in a pool of sunlight. She was too tired to chase the memory away out of anger.


	2. Chapter 2

Mai and Ty Lee woke up when female guards arrived to move them out of the holding cell. The two of them were given Boiling Rock uniforms: simple dark red trousers and short-sleeved tunics in a paler red, with flat, brown shoes. The guards escorted them to a pair of adjacent cells at the end of an empty cellblock. Ty Lee gave Mai a fearful look as a guard opened the cell on the left. In response, Mai lifted her chin, standing up very straight. Ty Lee drew herself up and managed a shadow of a smile as she disappeared behind the iron door.

The bolts slid into place on the door to Mai’s cell, signaling her isolation. Slowly turning all around, she studied her new home. The room was about eight feet by twelve feet and empty, except for what was supposed to be a bed: a thin mattress on a shelf suspended about a foot and a half off the floor by a pair of chains attached to the far wall. Her only links to the outside world were a narrow, barred window high in the wall and a rectangular panel at eye height in the door, made for the guards to see in, not for her to see out.

She had not been in her cell long when the door opened and her uncle entered. His face and arms were bruised and red with scrapes and scratches, but his clothes were fresh and his hair neat. Dark circles shadowed his eyes.

Mai was taken back, having never seen such hard anger on his face. Despite her apprehension, she was relieved he had come to see her. Right now, the worst he could say would be better than being alone with her own thoughts.

Two male guards started to enter the cell with him, but he held up a hand to halt them. “Wait outside.”

The taller guard began, “Sir…”

“I said wait outside.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door shut. Mai bowed to her uncle and waited for him to speak. He studied her for a few moments in silence. When he finally spoke his voice was tight. “Do you realize what happened yesterday?”

His eyes were so piercing that if Mai had not had long practice at keeping her gaze level under Azula’s stare, she would have flinched. She did not answer.

He continued, “I said myself that I would rather jump in the Boiling Lake than see anyone escape from here. And now my own niece has helped prisoners escape.” His expression flickered, like a shadow cast by a fast moving creature, between anger and hurt. “ _Why_? Why would you do such a thing?” He began to pace the cell, his eyes never leaving her face. “Tell me. Do you think it was worth it? Betraying your country, bringing shame on your family?” He stopped pacing and looked away from her. “I always thought of you more as a daughter than a niece.”

She shifted uncomfortably, folding her arms over her chest, but her face stayed neutral. He had every reason to hate her, to disown her, to spit in her face, and she would not protest.

Despite only seeing her uncle in person once a year or so, she always felt much closer to him than to her father. She always looked forward to reading his letters and writing her own to him. Her father was never unkind to her, but it was clear that he would rather have had a son, especially after the doctors said there would be no more children. But the doctors were wrong, and in time he got the son he always wanted. The difference between Mai and Tom Tom was that the Governor of Omashu would have grieved if she were captured by Earth Kingdom forces, but would never have offered to trade an important prisoner of war for her.

Her uncle stepped closer to her, looking into her face, and she glanced away. The darkness under his eyes indicated sleeplessness, but the redness around them indicated tears. He asked, “What do you have to say for yourself, Niece?”

She turned back to him, and said, without defiance but also without apology, “I never intended to help anyone escape, Uncle. I intended to save lives, that is all.”

“Your intentions make no difference to the law.”

“No.” She looked at him steadily. “But, if I may ask a question—do they make a difference to you?”

He narrowed his eyes and said, “If I had known you would do this, I would never have told you Prince Zuko was here. I should have just turned him over to the Fire Lord. I would have received a handsome reward, and the honor of capturing a traitor.”

“If you had done that, the Fire Lord would have sent Princess Azula to seize her brother. She would have brought me and Ty Lee along. I would probably have ended up committing treason, one way or another.” And she and Zuko, and maybe Ty Lee too, would have died, either out over the ocean or back at home.

“You talk as though the damage to my prison doesn’t matter.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She shook her head. “You could have prevented the damage here, but you couldn’t have stopped me from trying to save Zuko.”

“Is that so?” She nodded once. “He broke your heart. Why would you save him?”

“Because I wasn’t finished yelling at him for breaking up with me by letter. That kind of thing takes time.”

“Mai,” her uncle said quietly, “do not be flippant. Tell me the truth, please.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “You said you would rather die than see anyone escape from here. Well, I would rather die than live with Zuko’s blood on my hands. I would rather commit treason, too.” She would have recovered from Zuko leaving her—eventually. Leaving was his choice; his mistake. But she would never have recovered from watching him die in front of her and not doing anything to help him.

When she opened her eyes, her uncle was studying her silently, his expression difficult to read. Finally, he said, “I know you cared about Prince Zuko. But what you did was wrong.”

Even though part of her wished she didn’t, she _still_ cared about Zuko. “I never said it wasn’t.” He paced the cell for a few moments. When he stopped again and looked at her, she asked, “Do you believe me when I say that I did not act out of malice either toward you or the Fire Nation? I’m not asking you to forgive me, but just to believe me.”

He sighed and said, “Yes. Enough of this talk. What’s done is done.” He made a slicing motion with his hand, cutting off the conversation. She wasn’t certain he had forgiven her, but he would continue to be on speaking terms with her, and that was enough for now. Perhaps she could earn forgiveness from him in time, but she would not beg for it. It was unfortunate that they were on opposite sides now, but they both had convictions that wouldn’t be shaken, he in the law, she in—she wasn’t sure what to call it. _Love_ sounded sappy.

Her uncle turned to business. “What do you know about what Prince Zuko is doing?”

She shrugged. “No more than you do. He fled the country during the solar eclipse to fight with the Avatar.”

“But _why_? Has he gone mad?”

She thought the boy had always been mad. How could Zuko not think what he was doing was betraying the Fire Nation? She didn’t think he was lying when he said that—lying, especially about what he was thinking, was not something he’d ever done well. The statement simply made no sense to her. If he had said he was betraying his country for the sake of something more important to him, that she could understand. It was why she was in this mess right now. She said, “Possibly.”

“You do know you’ve thrown your life away for nothing? It’s only a matter of time before he’s caught.” ‘And killed’ was left unsaid.

“Well, you’re not dead. I wouldn’t call that nothing, if I were you.”

He scowled. “I have to live with the indignity of allowing prisoners to escape from an escape-proof prison. No one has ever escaped from the Boiling Rock in its entire history.”

She kept her tone of voice neutral as she said, “This place isn’t even ten years old, Uncle. There’s not much of a history.”

He threw up his hands. “That makes it worse! Our reputation could have grown with decades of failed escape attempts, but that will never happen now. The name of this place used to strike fear into the hearts of people everywhere, but now we’re just another jailhouse.”

Mai didn’t think her uncle needed to worry about people not being afraid of ending up in the Boiling Rock anymore. “Warden Poon still has the record for the most embarrassing escape ever. I mean, an old man beats up him and all his guards with his bare hands and just walks out in broad daylight. That’s pathetic, even for a solar eclipse. The only reason Zuko succeeded is because your own family betrayed you.”

Izo almost smiled. She knew there was a long history of animosity between him and Poon. The Warden of the Imperial Prison believed he should have been given command of Fire Lord Ozai’s fancy new fortress. Her uncle would be slightly mollified by the thought of his rival having suffered even greater loss of face than he did. He said, “I’ve written to your parents.”

“What did you tell them?”

“What happened.”

She sighed. Her mother always warned her that having troublesome children could ruin a politician’s career, and her mother was right. She supposed it was just as well that the Earth Kingdom re-captured Omashu during the eclipse. It saved the Fire Lord the trouble of removing her father as Governor because she committed treason. Her actions had killed her father’s career, but she could not bring herself to care. Her entire life had been devoted to being the perfect daughter in his perfect family, and now the entire charade was over for good. In a way, she had always lived in a prison, but now the cell was physical.

He added, “They’re probably on their way to some isolated colony by now.”

“What?”

Her uncle looked surprised. “You didn’t know? Your mother has had emergency plans to flee the country in case of a disastrous scandal for years.”

“She never told me.”

“She probably thought it best you didn’t know, being as close to Princess Azula as you—were.”

Mai scoffed. “Did she seriously think I would tattle to Azula about it?”

Her uncle said diplomatically, “People can’t tell secrets they don’t know. You know your mother is a cautious woman.” He rubbed his chin. “I doubt anyone will bother going after them, since you acted on your own. But between this and being driven out of Omashu, they won’t want to show their faces at court.”

She looked at the floor, frowning. Apparently no one told her _anything_. Zuko had a secret plan to run off to join the Avatar, and her parents had a secret plan to run off to the colonies. She wondered what other secret plans people who said they cared about her weren’t telling her about.

Even if her parents weren’t fleeing the country, she would never see them again. They wouldn’t visit her in prison. But it was strange to think about the two of them removed from the court. Even after the move to Omashu, the court and its affairs were still essential in family life.

She looked up and asked, “Would you write to Ty Lee’s parents too?”

“I will.”

She bowed and said, “Thank you, Uncle.”

“I’m keeping the two of you away from the rest of the prisoners for your protection. You will take meals in your cells and have private open-air time.”

“They hate traitors to the Fire Nation.”

“Actually, they absolutely love you two, especially you, Mai. Six different men have already asked the guards if you’re married.” She stared at him, and he added, “They hate traitors, yes, but they hate the guards here more. And you beat a bunch of them up.”

Dryly, she muttered, “I’m just popular with boys everywhere I go.” In a serious tone, she added, “I wasn’t trying to hurt any of the guards.”

Her uncle nodded once. “There were only minor injuries. The wounds to their pride were the worst, being bested by a lone non-bender.” He looked almost proud. “I’ve handpicked the guards who’ll be dealing with you and your friend from now on. You shouldn’t have any trouble with them.” He moved to the door. “I have to go now. There’s a lot of work to be done to clean up after yesterday.” He knocked on the door, and a guard’s eyes appeared in the viewing panel. As the bolts turned, he looked back to Mai and said, “I’m sorry things had to end this way.”

She didn’t bother saying she was sorry. She would do exactly what she had done again.


	3. Chapter 3

After Izo left, Mai sat down on the bed, resting her head in her hands. She repeated to herself in her mind, ‘ _I am not thinking about Zuko, I am not thinking about Zuko, I am not thinking about Zuko_.’ She wondered what Ty Lee was doing—probably bouncing off the walls, literally.

A guard delivered food. She ate, then paced her cell, then sat down again, then got up and paced some more. She took back what she’d said about Omashu: _this_ was the most boring place in the world.

The boredom was interrupted by another delivery: furniture. Guards brought in a low, square table made of lightweight wood, a red cushion for sitting, and a mattress that was, unlike the old one, actually softer than the floor. Lying down and staring at the ceiling, she reminded herself again not to think about Zuko. Eventually, she dozed off, and was woken by the cell door opening once more.

The guard said brusquely, “It’s open-air time.”

She was escorted outside to a small, walled-in area off of the main exercise yard. Ty Lee was already there, and almost knocked her down with a running hug. Mai said, “Your hands aren’t bound.”

Ty Lee pointed to the guards in the prison towers. “I guess they figure even if I got up there and beat them all, I’d have nowhere to go after.”

“That’s true.”

“But it’s _great_ to be out of that cell! I can finally move around.” She did a back flip to prove the point. “I was afraid I’d start getting stiff muscles like an old lady, cooped up in there. Oh! And they gave me some furniture!” She did a handstand. “I thought they wouldn’t ever let me see you again. They won’t let us see any of the other prisoners.”

Mai decided against telling Ty Lee about the marriage proposals. She did not want her friend to start thinking about the guys in the Boiling Rock as anything other than dangerous criminals. “Would you really want to meet the other prisoners? They’ve got all kinds in here: pirates, smugglers, rapists, murderers…”

Ty Lee’s eyes went wide at the last two words, and she flipped over onto her feet. “I suppose you’re right. But there might be someone else in here, well, like us.”

“You mean people who just happened to commit treason? I doubt it.”

Ty Lee looked around the exercise area, and said, “Hey! Let’s race.” Before Mai could refuse, she was off running.

They chased each other around and around. Neither of them kept track of who won—simply running was the point. It reminded Mai of how they’d played together as children when Azula wasn’t around.

Open-air time lasted for two hours, but seemed much shorter. Back in the cellblock, Ty Lee gave Mai another hug before they were locked behind their separate doors.

Alone in her cell, Mai sighed. Seeing Ty Lee made her realize that while she had often felt alone in her life, there had always been other people around: relatives, visitors, servants. Now she was alone by herself, and she found the experience unsettling.

The rest of the day dragged on. When the sky outside her narrow window had darkened, a guard called, “Lights out!” A pair of eyes appeared in the panel in the door. Mai waved from her bed. The lights in the hall were lowered but not extinguished.

In the dark silence, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The night before, she had slipped unconscious easily, exhausted in her bones, but now she was wide-awake. She took up her mental chant of ‘ _I am not thinking about Zuko_ ’ again. But as the sleepless night deepened, she finally gave up.

A letter? He seriously intended to break up with her by letter? If he wanted to leave her, he should have said the words to her face. She might have believed him then. Did she not even deserve that much respect from him? Zuko didn’t leave his father a letter and slink away like a coward. Azula had told her about _that_ confrontation.

_Why_ did he join the Avatar? She had suspected he would do something crazy sooner or later, although she didn’t know what to expect. He was obviously not happy being back home, and she couldn’t really blame him considering everything that had happened in his family. She couldn’t believe how much she sounded like her own mother, telling him ' _Why can’t you just be happy and enjoy being treated like royalty?_ ’ It was pathetic, and he didn’t fall for it from her any more than she fell for it from her mother.

But why join the Avatar?

She stood up and paced her cell. Zuko had to know it was suicide. In the letter, he said he wanted to help the Avatar bring peace back to the world. That was great, but there would only be peace when the Fire Nation crushed what remained of the Earth Kingdom. Since she was a traitor now, she might as well admit it: she would not be sorry if the Avatar killed Zuko’s father. She felt neither loyalty nor affection for Fire Lord Ozai, not after what he did to his own son. But there wouldn’t be peace, even if the Avatar killed the Fire Lord. The hate in the world was too strong. She’d been to the Earth Kingdom. People there tried to kill her and her family, and kidnapped her brother.

She sighed. There was no stopping Zuko when he got an idea in his head. She hoped his new best friends would watch his back, because she wouldn’t be around to do it anymore.

A narrow strip of moonlight showed through the bars on the window. Azula should have known Mai would choose Zuko over her. Mai never told Azula she _loved_ Zuko, but if the Princess knew as much as she thought she did, she would have seen it. Of course, Mai never told Zuko she loved him, either. She thought the words were unnecessary, that her feelings were obvious every time she kissed him. But perhaps that was why he left her a letter, instead of talking to her. She remembered him exploding in rage at her idly chatting with that guy with the big hair at a party. Maybe he really thought she would leave him so easily. Maybe he really thought she wouldn’t care too much if he left her. Maybe she should have told him she loved him. She would never get the chance now. If he had doubted her before, he shouldn’t now.

The moonlight faded. Glancing up, she saw dark clouds spreading across the moon. Zuko had said helping end the war was his destiny. Not so long ago, he said being the Fire Lord was his destiny. It seemed destiny was fickle.

She turned her back on the sky, tired of _destiny_. Zuko and Azula went on and on about it—even Ty Lee got into the act, talking about the circus being her “calling.” Well, Mai didn’t believe in destiny.

Despite being born into a family with more money and political power than some Fire Nation islands, she was ultimately unimportant. Her choices didn’t matter much, so she rarely bothered making any. She made a choice to save Zuko, ruining her own life in the process, but her sacrifice had done nothing but postpone the inevitable.

She lay back in bed, but did not sleep. Images ran through her mind: Zuko dying while Azula laughed; Ty Lee, an old woman with stiff muscles in the prison yard; her parents, not knowing what to do with themselves without her father’s political career; her little brother, who would probably not remember he had a sister. She wondered if her parents would tell him about her, if they would say she died in an accident or ran away from home.

It was near dawn when she finally broke into quiet tears. She wondered if every night would be like this for the rest of her life.


	4. Chapter 4

Mai had been at the Boiling Rock for two weeks when her uncle told her the Prison Tribunal had ordered that she and Ty Lee be transferred.

She was in his office, performing her assigned work duties: copying and filing documents. Her uncle had a secretary of course, but there was enough work for two people. Despite the escape, the Boiling Rock was still the most secure prison in the Fire Nation, and the number of prisoners and of guards grew at a fast rate. All the inmates and guards had files, and these files had to be reproduced when another warden or a Fire Nation official wanted information. There were also reports filed following incidents: fights, fire bending, escape attempts. Mai was not allowed to work on or even see the report on the recent escape, as she had been involved in it. Ty Lee had been assigned a similar job, in the prison doctor’s office.

Her uncle leaned against his desk, scowling. “It was Warden Poon who started this. He raised the issue with the Tribunal, claiming it was a conflict of interest for a warden to house a close relative in his own facility.”

She carefully smoothed the corners of the scroll she had just finished. Anger flared in her, but she checked it. Despite her betrayal, her uncle still considered her family, and it wouldn’t be right to vent her feelings on him. She said casually, “People suddenly care about nepotism when someone gets into trouble.”

He laughed bitterly. “I argued that this was the most appropriate place for you, since it’s the most secure facility in the world, but the Tribunal wouldn’t listen.”

She stood up. “Where will we be sent?”

“To the Imperial Prison." He sighed. "I’m sorry, Mai. This is Poon getting back at me for showing him up as a warden for years.” A devious smile crept onto his face. “But don’t worry. I know some of the guards there, and they will make sure you two are all right.”

She asked in a matter-of-fact tone, “What’s it like?" She almost asked ' _How bad will it be for us without you around to protect us_?', but she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

“It’s an ancient dump. Poon doesn’t keep it up properly," he answered with disdain, like the fussy, proud prison-keeper he was. “How could he have expected the Fire Lord to give him the Boiling Rock when he’s never shown any interest in modern technology? He wouldn’t even know what to do with the cooler system.”

“When are we supposed to go?”

“In three days.”

She turned to the office window, where she watched steam curl up from the lake in silence. Having her uncle nearby was one of the few things keeping her sane, and soon she would lose that too. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Mai, it may take some time, but I promise I will find a way to get you back.”

“You’ve lost standing among the wardens because of the escape," she said quietly.

“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly. “Before that, Poon never would have dared cross me. But it’s not just the escape. It’s been a terrible year for us wardens all over. There was General Iroh’s escape, and that earth bender uprising at the rig off the Earth Kingdom coast.” He shook his head. “The Tribunal likely would have allowed me to keep you here, considering my service record, but with everything that’s happened, they feel they need to be stricter." Folding his arms over his chest, he concluded, "It’s the Avatar coming back—people have gone crazy.”

Like her jerk of an ex-boyfriend, Mai thought. “Is there any way to put pressure on anyone on the Tribunal?”

Izo half smiled. “There are things I can use for leverage, you might say. But there are people in the Fire Nation government watching what I do right now other than the Tribunal officers.”

She looked directly into his face. “Are you in danger of losing your position?”

“Not now." Mai was less than reassured by that answer. He continued, "Frankly, they won’t get rid of me unless they absolutely have to. There are plenty of people who want the prestige of being Warden of the Boiling Rock, but they don’t actually want to deal with the hard cases. And living out here is certainly not a selling point.” He snorted. “Poon would be miserable if he ever got this job. He has a thing for plants, and it would be difficult to keep them alive here.”

“But you still need to be careful.”

He nodded. “This whole affair has been much too high profile. I need to give people some time to become preoccupied with the next scandal before I make a move.”

Her uncle’s reasoning was perfectly sound, she knew. He had lost political capital—because of her—and now he needed to be careful when maneuvering among his rivals. His determination to bring her back to the Boiling Rock showed how much he still cared about her. But part of her still wanted him to say that he simply wouldn’t let anyone take her away. Her parents always put her father’s career above her. Zuko told her outright he was ditching her for the good of the Fire Nation, whatever twisted meaning that had for him now. Now her uncle was saying that her welfare was second to his position. She knew he didn’t intend it that way. If he lost his post as warden, he wouldn’t be able to help her at all, but this knowledge was ice cold comfort.

“I understand,” she said. She turned away from the window. “Uncle, I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it?”

“I want to use my weapons one last time before I go.”

He nodded. “I’ll allow it.”

She bowed. “Thank you, Uncle.”

During open-air time, Mai told Ty Lee about the transfer. Ty Lee cried even more than she had expected, clinging to her shoulders until her left sleeve was soaked with salty tears.

She patted Ty Lee's shoulder awkwardly and said, “I know, this sucks, but it won’t be as bad as you think. My uncle used to work with a few of the guards at the Imperial Prison. He’ll make sure they look out for us.”

Ty Lee wiped her eyes. “It’s not that. I’m going to miss your uncle.” Mai looked at her friend, baffled. Izo had spoken to the girl twice in the entire time they’d been in the prison. Ty Lee sniffled. “I know, he’s not a friendly guy, but it’s like, my family’s nowhere near here, and you having someone from your family here made me feel better. He’s your uncle, so he’s not just the Warden.”

Mai thought that made sense. “He’s already working on bringing us back. It’ll take some time, but he’ll pull it off. He hasn’t let me down yet.” She tried not to think ‘ _There’s a first time for everything_.’

That evening, shortly after sunset, Izo met Mai in the courtyard below his office. There were no guards to be seen. He presented her with her arrows and knives, every last one. She shivered with the thrill of holding her own weapons again. Gazing at the high, smooth wall before her, dark gray in the waning light, she lingered for a long moment, feeling the sharp-edged steel in her hands. Then she sprang, unleashing a gale of blades and arrows, as though she were fighting for her life against the wall. It felt like her spirit flew forward with every missile. All of her anger, fear and sorrow vanished into the experience, the rush of handling deadly steel with fearlessness and precision, the stability, fluidity and wholeness of her body as it made her weapons dance.

She didn’t know if she would ever have this chance again.


	5. Chapter 5

Three days later, Mai stood in the afternoon sun on the gondola platform, watching the slow approach of guards from the Imperial Prison. Ty Lee looked pale and on the verge of tears. In keeping with transfer protocol, both of them had their hands shackled. Izo scowled, muttering curses aimed at Warden Poon under his breath.

Mai glanced around the platform. The signs of her fight with the guards were still visible: scorch and blade marks in the floor and walls. The damage was cosmetic, and a low priority on the list of repairs that needed to be made after the escape. The inmates had done far more damage during the riot than either she or the escapees had, wrecking an entire section of coolers, the cafeteria, and several storerooms. Even with prisoners and guards working night and day, it would take weeks for every little thing that was broken to be fixed. But her uncle would make sure that every little thing _was_ fixed.

Her uncle said quietly, “Poon is arrogant and ambitious, and he won’t like you because you’re related to me. He has a big mouth and likes to taunt people. But he’s afraid of me, so he won’t dare do any actual harm to you.” Mai reflected that there were ways to hurt someone without doing “actual harm.” He went on, reminding her—for the third time—which guards she could go to for help and which she should be wary of, not to get into any fights unless it was absolutely necessary, and on and on.

Finally, she said, “Uncle, you’ve said this so many times, I’m starting to think you’re learning lines for a play.”

He sighed. “I just wish I could keep you here.” She reached out and touched his hand lightly.

The gondola docked and the guards stepped out. There were four female guards and a male guard who seemed to be in charge. Mai couldn’t really tell what they looked like under the helmets and uniforms, other than that they were all tall and strong.

Her uncle replied, “Captain Hansuke.” This was Izo’s main contact in the Imperial Prison, no less than the captain of the guards. Up close, Mai could see that he was probably in his mid-thirties, with broad shoulders, olive skin, and keen, gold eyes. Hansuke had worked at the Boiling Rock when it opened, but transferred back to civilization to care for his aging parents. Her uncle had a good opinion of him as a guard and a person. He also owed his old Warden a favor, since Izo had helped him get his mother into the Royal Fire Hospital when the woman fell ill last year. “How has Warden Poon been treating you?”

“Very well, sir. I believe I can say I’ve performed my service at the Imperial Prison with distinction."

“I would expect nothing less from one of my old guards,” her uncle replied. He introduced Hansuke to Mai and Ty Lee, then said, with a pained expression, “Well, if you are ready, we might as well get this over with.”

Mai felt the same. She wasn't worried that either she or her uncle would start crying, but a long goodbye now seemed like dying from slow-acting poison.

Hansuke bowed, and the female guards escorted the two girls on board the gondola. As the car left the platform, Izo gave Mai one last sorrowful look, then turned his face away. She looked away from the prison, down to the deadly, steaming water below. Her uncle had been ready to die in it rather than allow prisoners to escape. She still wasn’t sure he had forgiven her for betraying his wishes, or if he ever would. But he was willing to do what he could to take care of her. In an odd way, it meant more to her than simple forgiveness.

She leaned against the wall of the car, remembering the look Zuko had given her when he realized what she was doing. She hoped she hadn’t condemned him to a far worse death by saving him that day.

The airship was small and spartan. Very unlike Azula’s grand, luxurious ship with a kitchen, a suite for the Princess with carpets and an enormous bed, and less lavish but very comfortable rooms for her guests. The trip was boring for everyone except maybe the pilot. The guards had quiet conversations among themselves, occasionally glancing at the prisoners with a variable mix of curiosity and contempt.

Eventually, one of the women approached them and asked quietly, “How old are you?”

They gave their ages, Ty Lee’s voice squeaking with nervousness. The guard shook her head. “Youngest prisoners I’ve ever seen. My name is Ming." She studied the two of them for a moment, then added, "I just wanted to let you know that the guards' job is to keep order, not to hurt anyone. We don’t allow prisoners to hurt each other, either. If you have any trouble, you can tell me, and I’ll do what I can to help. Okay?”

Ty Lee nodded. Mai was curious—this was not one of the guards her uncle knew, personally or by reputation. Perhaps Ming simply had a soft spot for frightened teenagers, even if they were traitors.

Mai spent most of the flight lounging on one of the benches. She held up her cuffed wrists to examine her nails. They looked horrible, short and jagged; the last traces of polish long worn away, the cuticles ringed with hangnails. Ty Lee stood by the window trying to figure out which islands they were flying over.

Halfway to the capital city, Mai nodded off. Her dreams were strange. She flew to Omashu and met her parents there, and discovered that her brother was a fire bender, which was a big deal because there hadn’t been a fire bender in her family in three generations. She also discovered she was a fire bender, but people didn’t care because her brother was the first. Then Azula came to kill everyone. The two of them burned the city down fighting, but neither of them won.

The sky was dark when Hansuke woke Mai up for landing. She and Ty Lee were taken to their new home, the Imperial Prison, on the outskirts of the capital city.

The prison was, as Izo had said, an ancient dump. She had not appreciated how clean and well kept the Boiling Rock was until she saw this place. The air reeked of mildew, the stone floors and walls were chipped and discolored, and there were cobwebs and dust everywhere.

Hansuke lead the group down dimly lit corridors to a small office. Here, the rest of the guards were dismissed. Mai and Ty Lee sat waiting while Hansuke filled out the paperwork to admit them. The only other guard in the office glanced at the new arrivals briefly, then returned his attention to the scrolls he was filing.

Mai leaned back in her chair, stretching her legs out in front of her. A door clanged nearby, and footsteps approached the office. Warden Poon appeared at the door and looked at the new prisoners like a boy who enjoys torturing animals would look at a stray cat. He had clearly been waiting for their arrival with anticipation, possibly salivation.

He sneered as he towered over Mai, but his sneer wasn’t nearly as good as Azula’s. She did not react to his presence. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ty Lee sit up very straight.

Poon said, “First the Dragon of the West turns traitor, then Prince Zuko, and now the niece of the Warden of the Boiling Rock and her friend.” He shook his head. “General Iroh was a mad old man, and I can believe he warped his nephew’s mind, but why a couple of young women from respectable families would throw in with traitors is beyond me.” He leaned into Mai’s face and added, “You’re not going back to your doting uncle so he can coddle you. I’m surprised he still has his job. A man whose own family betrays the Fire Nation can’t be trusted.” He smirked. “If you think you’ll have an easy time here, you are mistaken.” He glanced back at Hansuke, who was handing the scroll he’d finished to the guard at the filing cabinet. “I have my best guards watching you.”

Mai pressed her lips together to keep herself from laughing at Poon’s lack of awareness. The very guard he trusted to make her life miserable was her uncle’s ally.

Hansuke was ready to go. Poon looked like he would come with them to continue his taunting, but the guard on office duty needed to speak to him, so he stalked over to deal with prison business. In the hall, another guard holding a bundle met the trio.

On the way to the cells, Hansuke explained the prison rules, which were much like those at the Boiling Rock. No fire bending, no fighting, no weapons, and in general do what the guards say. The big difference for Mai and Ty Lee would be that here, they would mingle with the other inmates for meals, exercise and work duty. Mai would work in the garden, while Ty Lee would work in the laundry. Mai was disappointed. She had hoped they would work together so they could keep an eye on each other.

However, they did have neighboring cells, at the end of a short block housing female prisoners. Since it was after lights out, the inmates were in bed. Mai and Ty Lee were given new uniforms—gray, not red—and then each unshackled and locked inside a cell.

Mai looked around her new home, which was much like her cell at the Boiling Rock, except grayer and grimier, and with a door of bars instead of solid metal. She and Ty Lee quickly discovered that they could see each other, if they pressed their faces against the bars and craned their heads. Ty Lee whispered, “Do you have graffiti in your cell? It’s all over mine. Whoever was in here before must have really liked to draw.”

“There’s nothing like that over here. I think my predecessor just liked to sit and stare at the walls.”

“What do you think will happen tomorrow?”

Mai sighed. “I don’t know. You should try to get some sleep. It’s getting late.”

“I’m too worried to sleep. I don’t like the Warden here.”

“Don’t worry about Poon. You remember what my uncle said. He won’t do more than talk at us.”

“What if all the other prisoners attack us?”

“I doubt _all_ the other prisoners will. There are going to be plenty of people who hate us, but we can take care of ourselves. I mean, you can still put a cork in somebody’s chi with your bare hands.”

Ty Lee said quietly, “But what are you going to do, Mai? You don’t have any weapons.”

“No. But I can still make some idiot sorry for hassling me.” She sounded more confident than she felt. In a one-on-one fight, even without weapons she could probably win. She had learned a few things growing up with Ty Lee, Azula and Zuko. But against multiple opponents, being unarmed was a serious disadvantage. And anyone who did attack her probably wouldn’t do it alone. She cast the thought out of her mind. “Come on, let’s get some rest. We’ll worry about tomorrow when it happens, okay?”

“Okay," Ty Lee answered, sounding anxious and dejected.

“Try to think of something…pleasant.” Mai would have offered suggestions, but she couldn’t think of any.

Ty Lee considered for a moment. “Well, he’s old, and probably married or something, but Hansuke’s not bad looking.”

Mai half smiled, not surprised. She hadn’t thought about it before, but Ty Lee wasn’t wrong. “There you go. You can count cute guys instead of koala sheep.”

Ty Lee giggled. The sound reassured Mai slightly. At least they still had each other.


	6. Chapter 6

In the morning, Mai and Ty Lee lined up behind a guard with the other prisoners in the cellblock to go to breakfast. In the outer hallway, women from other cellblocks joined the march. The cafeteria was large, but poorly lit and shabby, and lined with long, narrow tables that looked like they’d been overturned in fights once too often. Two lines of prisoners entered the room from opposite sides—their line was all women, while the other was all men.

Mai and Ty Lee got in line for food. Conversations sprang up all around them, and in a few minutes the hum of a few hundred people talking filled the room. At the tables, people were seating themselves according to some kind of pattern, different groups forming with boundaries between them. Her uncle had told her which guards to talk to, but not where to sit in the cafeteria. It felt disturbingly like her first day at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls.

Ty Lee grabbed Mai’s arm and whispered, “Look at those four girls going to the table in the corner there. What are _they_ doing here?”

Mai glanced in the direction Ty Lee indicated, and after a moment she recognized them. “We captured them and stole their clothes so we could infiltrate Ba Sing Se, remember? They got packed off here.”

“What did they call themselves? Something with a K.”

“Kyoshi Warriors.”

“That’s it!” Ty Lee grinned at her friend, then pouted at the girls settling down at their table. “They’re very ordinary looking without all that makeup and the fancy gold headdresses.”

Mai felt a sharp elbow in her back. She turned around. A tall, lean woman with a thin scar running down her left cheek sneered, “Watch where you’re going.” There were two other women standing beside her, looking malicious.

For a moment, Mai thought she would have her first fight. But one of the guards passed by, and the women walked on, throwing her evil looks.

Mai looked around. Several clusters of people, men and women, were whispering and glancing at them with looks of hostility and surprise. Apparently word was already going around that traitors had arrived. She said, “I think the Kyoshi Warriors will be the least of our problems.”

The two of them took trays and received bowls of something Mai couldn’t identify--a sort of thick, white soup that smelled like rice. She and Ty Lee headed for one of the few still empty tables near the far wall. Several prisoners spat loudly on the floor as they passed. Mai did not look down to see if any of it got on her shoes.

One of the Kyoshi Warriors spotted them and quickly alerted the others. All four turned their heads to stare, then started talking rapidly among themselves. Ty Lee made a show of not looking at the girls. Mai focused on the table they were approaching. A group of men got there before they did, and gave them malevolent leers. One of them made an obscene hand gesture, and the others laughed. There were no more empty tables.

Mai scanned the room, searching for the least hostile-looking group of inmates to approach. Ty Lee touched her elbow. One of the Kyoshi Warriors, a slender girl of medium height, with black hair and pale skin, was approaching.

The girl said, “We remember you.” Her tone made it clear that none of the Earth Kingdom girls liked those memories.

“We remember you too,” Mai answered lightly.

Apprehension and distaste filled the girl's face. She spoke quickly, as though to get the words out before changing her mind. “We’ll make you an offer. If you don’t accept now, we won’t make it again. You can sit with us, if you tell us what happened at the Boiling Rock. We’ve heard all kinds of rumors, and we want to know the truth.”

Ty Lee’s eyes widened. Mai remembered that the red-haired girl who escaped with Zuko was one of them. She glanced swiftly from the table where the other Kyoshi Warriors sat watching, to other nearby tables where Fire Nation prisoners glared back at her.

Mai did not like or trust these girls, but she learned long ago that alliances were usually not based on affection and trust. “We can sit with you at every meal?”

The girl hesitated before nodding. She didn’t look happy about extending this hospitality. “If you don’t bother us, we won’t bother you.”

Mai nodded sharply once. “Okay.”

Ty Lee gave her a clear ‘ _I don’t think this is a good idea_ ’ look, but followed along. They sat down with the other three girls.

Mai dipped her spoon into her bowl. “We’ll answer your questions, but first tell me what this stuff is.”

The black-haired girl who’d approached them said, “You’ve never seen juk before?”

“What’s in it?”

“It’s rice boiled to make a porridge.” Mai stirred the unappetizing mush. This was clearly peasant food, probably for peasants who didn’t know how to cook. The girl laughed. “How can you not know what juk is? People eat it everywhere, even on Kyoshi Island.”

Ty Lee sniffed her bowl of glop, then hesitantly took a bite. She said, “It’s not that bad, Mai. It’s got no flavor, and the texture’s weird, but it’s not that bad.”

“That’s a ringing endorsement,” Mai said. “It sounds like something you’d feed an invalid.”

The Kyoshi Warriors laughed, and were very clearly laughing _at_ the two of them. A man at the next table turned around and said, “What do you girls find so funny this morning?”

The man had dark skin and long, dark hair, blue eyes, and a burn scar covering his left forearm and hand. Around him and at the next table over, sat about two-dozen men with similar complexions and features. Considering the friendly way the man spoke to the Earth Kingdom girls, Mai guessed these were prisoners of war captured during the invasion.

One of the other Kyoshi Warriors said, “Bato, you’ve sailed all around the world. Have you ever met anyone who didn’t know what juk is?”

The man looked amused. “That’s not something I usually ask the people I meet.”

This was enough conversation about boiled rice goop. Mai put down her spoon and said, “So, do you want to know what happened at the Boiling Rock or not?”

Everyone stopped smiling. The man called Bato looked at her for the first time, surprised, then nudged the men seated next to him so that they turned to look too.

The black-haired girl who first spoke to them said, “We heard you two were involved in the escape.”

Mai asked, “And you’re certain it was us?”

The girl smiled sharply. “People described two girls: one could knock a spider-fly out of the air with a knife from fifty paces and the other could paralyze a person with a few quick jabs along the body.” She glanced at Ty Lee, who smiled nervously. “I doubt there are that many people in the world who can do those things and who work together.”

“You got us,” Mai replied.

A girl with round cheeks and pale green eyes asked, “How do we know you’ll tell us the truth?”

Mai shrugged. “You don’t. But I don’t see any reason to lie to you, so I won’t.”

The Kyoshi Warriors looked at each other for a moment, considering that statement. Finally, the black-haired girl asked, “Who escaped from the Boiling Rock?”

By this time, all eyes at the three tables were on Mai. She said, “There were five. Prince Zuko, the Fire Lord’s son; the Water Tribe boy who travels with the Avatar…”

“His name’s Sokka, I think,” Ty Lee added.

“Hakoda, Chief of the Southern Water Tribe…” here the faces of the dark-skinned men brightened, “the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors…” here the girls clasped one another’s hands and made happy noises, “and a fire bender named Chit Sang.” Here everyone looked at her blankly. Apparently her uncle was right in thinking Chit Sang wasn’t in league with the Avatar and had just grabbed an opportunity to escape. She added, “He was in for being the leader of a gang of armed robbers.”

Mai spent the rest of the meal answering questions, mostly from the Earth Kingdom girls, with Ty Lee occasionally providing extra information. She reported what had happened at the Boiling Rock in a dispassionate way, not mentioning her relationship with Zuko, so that the people listening thought she acted only to save her uncle’s life. None of them expressed surprise that she'd been sent to prison for such a thing, which she found odd. But perhaps it wouldn't seem unusual to people from the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribe. No matter what these people thought, she didn’t feel like explaining her crazy relationship with her crazy boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, or possibly dead possibly ex-boyfriend. It was none of their business.

A gong sounded, ending breakfast. The cafeteria filled with the sound of chairs scraping as people stood up to go to work duty. More guards entered the room, calling out the locations of work assignments, and inmates formed lines in front of them. Unlike the lines for the cellblocks, these were mixed gender.

As Mai stood up, the black-haired girl said, “By the way, my name’s Akimi.” She gave the other girls’ names: Chiho, Fumi, and Hiyori. Mai and Ty Lee formally introduced themselves. Akimi added, “Just so you know, there are people around here who will take a run at you two, so watch yourselves.”

Mai replied, “We always have.”


	7. Chapter 7

Hansuke and Ming entered the cafeteria with the other guards. He called Mai to his line, for the garden workers, while she summoned Ty Lee to hers, for the laundry workers. Ty Lee looked back at Mai nervously, and Mai said, "Remember--we'll see each other later."

Ty Lee nodded, and went to join her line.

Mai studied the fifteen other prisoners on her work assignment: ten men, five women. Three of the men she recognized from the outskirts of the war prisoner group: one was tall, thin, and dopey-looking; the second short, round, and less dopey-looking; and the third fat and serene-looking. The dopey-looking ones had dark brown hair, while the serene-looking one had gray; all had dark skin and blue eyes. They looked something like Bato and his friends, although without the muscle or menace of hardened warriors. There was something about them that seemed strange--not threatening, just odd--but she couldn't figure out what. However, none of the inmates in the line did more than glance at her with curiosity, which she took as a good sign.

Hansuke escorted the group through a gate in the west wall of the prison. Mai was surprised to see what had to be the Warden’s residence on the other side. The house was not much to look at, a single-story, gray stone building with minimal ornament: bronze statues of komodo rhinos on either side of the front steps; red tile eaves, the edges carved in the shape of flames; and a bronze lantern stand decorated with gold tassels by the front door. Compared to the rest of the prison buildings, it was lavish, but compared to every other building in the capital it was plain.

But the house was surrounded by a garden that—except for the high, thick wall topped with a guard tower circling it—would not be out of place among the courtiers’ homes near the palace.

On the other side of the house was a tall, precisely trimmed hedge. Beyond the hedge, the land sloped up. A waterfall flowed over multi-colored rocks artfully placed on the incline. On either side were a pair of gold flamingo-heron statues, and at the bottom were a pair of turtle ducks and a badgerfrog on a lily pad, all in stone. A pebbled footpath curved up the bank, flanked by small trees and shrubs. At the top was a red wood teahouse, guarded by a gold statue of a dragon. Next to the dragon, a pond shimmered in the morning sunlight, with round stepping-stones leading across it. A little distance behind the teahouse stood a line of tall fire oaks, red leaves rustling in a breeze. Past the fire oaks was another building, but she couldn’t make out what it was.

Mai stared at the garden. When her uncle said that Poon had an interest in plants, she imagined he kept bonsai in his office, not that he had turned a corner of a _prison_ into an elaborate botany set piece. It was mad.

While the other inmates walked toward the fire oaks, Hansuke pulled the three war prisoners aside. He said, “We have a new inmate who’s been assigned here. Her name is Mai. I want you to show her around.”

Two of the men, the dopey-looking ones, looked at her with surprise, while the third, the fat one, simply continued looking serene. She bit her lip to keep from protesting. Hansuke was trying to help her, but there had to be someone who wouldn’t murder her on work duty other than these weirdoes.

After Hansuke left, the four of them stood in silence. The tall, thin man and the short, less fat man exchanged glances. Finally the tall one said, “Well, my name’s Due. This here’s Tho,” he swung his thumb at the short one, “and this is Huu.” His thumb swung to the fat one. “Pleased to make yer acquaintance, Miss Mai.”

She sighed and said, “I know nothing about gardening.” Rather, she knew how to appreciate the aesthetics of a garden, but she knew nothing about working in one.

Due said, “Aw, don’t fret ‘bout that. The jobs ‘round here ain’t difficult t’ learn. And there ain’t no plants that’ll bite ya.”

Mai raised an eyebrow. “Did you just say there aren’t any plants that _bite_?”

Due answered seriously, “No, not here. You got all docile plants, not like back home in the swamp, where you gotta watch yer fingers when you go berry-pickin’.”

Tho tapped Due’s elbow, “We’d best get movin’ before the Warden comes by and sees us standin’ around yakkin’.”

Her first impression was right: these three were _very_ strange.

The trio took Mai on a tour of the grounds. The building she had seen on the other side of the fire oaks was a greenhouse. To the right of the greenhouse were a series of large plots, abundant with a variety of plants: herbs, peppers, vegetables (tomatoes, summer squash, watermelons, and others she couldn’t identify through all the leaves and vines), flowers (with sunflowers, fire dahlias, and dragon irises in full bloom now). Several of the other inmates were already at work, picking small, bright yellow peppers.

Due and Tho were discussing what job Mai should do when the Warden approached.

Eyes gleaming, Poon said, “Ah, so here is our new guest.” He nodded to the men. “Due, Tho, Huu, you know what your jobs are.” Due and Tho headed for the vegetables, Huu for the greenhouse, leaving Mai alone with Warden Poon.

He smirked. “I have just the job for a _foul_ traitor like you. Come with me.”

On the other side of the flowerbeds furthest from the greenhouse was a small shed. Behind the shed was a low, circular fence enclosing a red wheelbarrow with a shovel leaning against it. Next to the wheelbarrow was an enormous pile of manure, more than half as tall as Mai.

Poon said, “We get it from the army’s rhino stables. Excellent stuff.” He told her which plots to fertilize, then watched, smiling, while she started digging. The surface of the pile had dried, locking most of the smell inside, but when she broke through the crust, the stench erupted like lava. She coughed, her eyes watering. It was _far_ worse than bear poop.

Poon covered his nose and added, “We get a shipment every week," before walking away.

If Azula didn’t kill Zuko, Mai would. And then she would kill Azula. And Poon.

Spreading the manure took all day. By dinnertime, she was exhausted and sore, feeling like her arms and back had been beaten with mallets. She was strong and accustomed to martial arts training, but she had never done this kind of droning, repetitive work before. The drain on her body and mind was surprising.

The Kyoshi Warriors laughed heartily when they heard about the job Poon had given her. Ty Lee wrinkled her nose and said that at least the Earth King’s bear had been cute.

After lights out that night, Mai quickly plunged into sleep.

The shrill clang of metal cut through her dream. She stirred. A male voice whispered nearby, “Keep it down. You’ll wake the whole cellblock.”

Hearing those words, she sat up immediately. There were three guards standing at her cell door, a woman and two men. She couldn’t see their faces under their helmets in the dim light. The woman was short—the shortest guard Mai had yet seen. Both men were tall, one with much broader shoulders than the other.

The woman said, with fake reassurance, “Don’t be alarmed. We’re just checking out some suspicious noises.” One of the men snickered.

Anger flooded through Mai at the disgusting false friendliness in the woman’s tone. She stood, squaring her shoulders and emphasizing her height. Her voice was cold and dangerous. “I don’t think the Warden would approve of guards being away from their posts in the middle of the night.”

The woman turned the key in the door, unlocking it. She said, her voice now dangerous as well, “The Warden will not believe _stories_ told by a traitor.”

Mai tensed, her heart pounding. If they thought she wouldn’t fight them, they were wrong. But she wouldn’t win trapped in this cell. Afterward, they could tell Poon whatever they wanted--they had caught her trying to escape, or with contraband. Of course he would believe his guards over her. Any help her uncle could offer would come far after the fact.

Another voice in the cellblock startled her. “Kuo. Jaran. Akita. You know, whatever brought you all down here at this hour is worth informing the night watch supervisor about.”

The three guards froze. Hansuke stepped out of the shadows and stopped in front of Mai's cell.

The broad-shouldered man said, confused, “Captain. Sir--weren’t you on day shift today?”

“I’m working a double,” Hansuke replied smoothly. “Heung Zhu is sick. Now, what are you doing so far from your posts?"

The woman said, “I—I couldn’t see the prisoner in the cell, sir, and I called for back up to check it out." She paused slightly, then added, "These are very dangerous prisoners, sir.”

Hansuke peered through the bars of Mai’s cell door for a moment, then pointed at her. “Well, she’s right there. You don’t even need to unlock the door to see.” The woman quickly locked the door again. He clapped his hands together. “All right, now that I’ve found the dangerous prisoner for you, _get back to your posts_.”

After the guards filed out, he whispered, “What happened?”

Mai suddenly felt cold. “I woke up and those three goons were standing there.”

He touched the bars on the door. “Go back to sleep. I’ll handle them. This won’t happen again.”

Mai suspected that Hansuke working through the night was no accident. She wanted to ask what he would do, but he probably wouldn’t tell her.

After he left, all was quiet again, except for the snores of some other prisoner. The aborted attack didn't seem to have woken anyone else up. Even if it had, she doubted the other inmates would have cared much.

Leaning against the bars, she whispered Ty Lee’s name. When there was no response, she was glad—her friend was still asleep. There was no reason to disturb Ty Lee unnecessarily by telling her about this.

She hoped her uncle’s ally could keep his word.


	8. Chapter 8

Considering how her first day at the Imperial Prison had gone, Mai was not looking forward to her second.

She expected Poon to give her another dirty job, but he was not in the garden. There must have been other inmates he wanted to harass, or perhaps he was actually working.

After her encounter with the three guards, she hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. She was tired and irritable as she walked alongside the three war prisoners.

Tho said, “We talked it over, and we decided that, fer now at least, you should work with Huu in the greenhouse.”

Due and Tho went on to the vegetable plots, and she accompanied the silent Huu to the greenhouse. It was a rectangular, single-story building with glass walls and roof, and a set of metal double doors in the front. Once inside, she realized why he needed help—the greenhouse was crammed full of hundreds of orchids.

From floor to ceiling, there were orchids in every imaginable color and some unimaginable shapes, stacked on shelves, hanging from rafters, sitting on the floor. Along the two long walls ran waist height tables lined with smaller orchids and littered with tools such as trowels or watering cans. The only places to sit were two wooden stools, one of which had a white and purple orchid perched on it. On either side of the front doors were two sets of vertical shelves housing empty pots and other supplies. In the center of the greenhouse was an island of tall wooden stakes supporting long vines with large, light green leaves. The floor was gravel. At the other end of the building was a second set of metal doors.

The scent of so many flowers in an enclosed space was almost dizzying. Huu swept out an arm and said, “Welcome. This is the Warden’s prize orchid collection.”

Mai was surprised to hear the man finally say something. He continued, “Warden Poon says there’s over three hundred species in here, some from thousands of miles away. It’s a bit odd to me, keepin’ all these flowers cooped up like this instead of lettin’ ‘em grow wild, but I don’t mind tendin’ to ‘em.” He smiled. “It’s better than shoveling manure, anyway. And the guards can’t see in here, so I can take the opportunity to get comfortable.”

Without any warning, Huu took off his pants.

Fortunately, he did not take off his underwear. He stretched, saying, “Ah! That feels better.”

For a second, Mai was alarmed. But Huu simply folded his pants and set them on a shelf, then looked at her with the same calm expression.

She stared at him, keeping her eyes on his face. He seemed completely unaware that taking his pants off while he was on work duty, especially in front of someone he’d just met—especially a female someone—was inappropriate. She held up a hand and said, “Okay. I’m in prison. I know I have to tolerate bad food, nasty jobs, bullying, and mind-numbing boredom. But I am _not_ tolerating people just _taking off their pants_ around me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, seeming honestly surprised. “I didn’t think it would bother you none. I can put ‘em back on.”

She made no attempt to hide her irritation. “I would appreciate that, if it’s not too much trouble.”

He retrieved his pants, saying, “I think it’s kind of funny. I mean, it’s hot here, almost as hot as it is back home in the swamp. We don’t wear pants there, so I’m surprised Fire Nation folks wear ‘em.”

Mai wished he would go back to not talking.

Once he was fully dressed again, he showed her around the greenhouse. The vines were vanilla plants, and despite their nondescript appearance were the most valuable of the orchids. According to Huu, Poon experimented in his spare time with methods to make vanilla production easier. The Warden already had one successful botany innovation to his name: crossing the sun tulip with the carnivorous pitcher plant, resulting in a hybrid that was beautiful and helped control insects. There were a few sun pitcher flowers scattered around the greenhouse. Looking at them, Mai wasn’t sure about the beautiful part—they looked like brightly colored, partially deflated balloons.

She asked, “What do you do here all day?”

“Lots of different things. I prune the orchids, move ‘em to new pots when they get too big, water ‘em. The biggest job is pollinatin’ ‘em.”

Mai yawned as Huu explained how, in the wild, birds, insects, and the wind pollinated flowers, but since none of those things were in the greenhouse, it had to be done by hand. He demonstrated the technique on a particularly striking orchid: white petals with yellow tips and irregular red-purple speckles, like spilled paint. The procedure was simple. Use a tiny bamboo stick to transfer pollen from one part of a plant to another, and try not to crush anything while doing it. With a sigh, she perched on a stool at the opposite end of the row of speckled orchids from Huu and started pollinating.

The two of them worked without speaking for a long time. As Mai became accustomed to the task, her mind wandered through many thoughts, all of them unhappy. Dying alone in her cell decades from now, Ty Lee trusting the wrong people and getting hurt, Zuko struck down by Azula’s lightning. The air was still and humid, and it was silent except for the soft sounds of their movements as they worked down the row of orchids.

Finally, she decided any distraction, even a conversation with an enemy prisoner who didn’t like wearing pants, was preferable to her endless loop of troubled thoughts. She said, “I didn’t know the Warden was obsessed with orchids.”

Huu said, “Oh, lookin’ at him, you wouldn’t think he liked plants at all. But he has this big fancy garden up here for his own enjoyment. He says he spent years travelin’ all over trackin’ all these orchids down, or payin’ folks to get ‘em when he couldn’t. I reckon the Foggy Swamp’s one of the few places he hasn’t searched.”

“The Foggy Swamp? That’s where you’re from?” He nodded. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s down south of that big city with all the earth benders, Ohm-ah-shu.” Mai put down her pollen stick for a moment and stared at him. Her living, if only for a little while, anywhere near this man and his pants-less clan was just bizarre. He continued, “We got orchids, and thousands of plants of all kinds. We got a banion grove tree the size of this city.”

“I don’t see how anybody could live in a swamp. They’re full of gross bugs and weird diseases.”

He snorted. “We got a lot of bugs, true, but some of ‘em are good to eat.” Mai felt ill. “And you can keep disease under control if you know the right plants to use for medicine.” He shook his head. “I know, lots of folks from outside don’t understand. But it’s my home, and I think it’s the most beautiful place in the world.” He was quiet for a few moments, as though lost in nostalgia. “Now, you tell me, where are you from?”

She waved a hand around. “Here. Not the prison, obviously, but I was born on this island.”

He paused with his hand over an orchid and gave her an appraising look. “I’ve heard Fire Nation folks say this is the most beautiful place in the world. I ain’t seen much of the city myself. What do you think?”

“I don’t think any place is much better than any other. People just think places they’re familiar with are better because they know what to expect.”

Huu scratched his chin. “That’s one way to look at it, I s’pose. You ever been anywhere else?”

“Different islands in the Fire Nation,” she answered. “Omashu.”

He grinned. “So we been neighbors.”

“Ba Sing Se,” she went on. “Little villages in the Earth Kingdom.”

“And you don’t think they’re different from this city?”

“Not really.”

She expected him to tell her she just never paid attention to any of those places. Instead, he shifted on his stool so he faced halfway to her and asked, “Why not?”

She put down her pollinating stick. “Anywhere you go, it’s mostly boring. Occasionally, tragedy strikes, someone dies, or leaves, or whatever. But regardless of where you are, you spend most of your life just doing what other people tell you.” The exceptions were the Fire Lord and his favorite child—they spent their lives telling everyone else what to do.

She expected him to chastise her for being pessimistic, as people often did, but he didn’t. “What were you doing at all those places in the Earth Kingdom?”

“My father became the governor of Omashu when it was captured.” She picked her stick up again and wiped it on a cloth before starting the next flower. “The rest was helping the Fire Lord’s daughter search for the Avatar.”

“Why was she looking for the Avatar?”

“So she could throw him in prison and no one could stop the Fire Nation from taking over the world. Why else?”

Huu was silent for a moment, his fingers deftly working on an orchid. Mai glanced at his face, but his expression was inscrutable. It annoyed her—she was used to being the unreadable one. She thought perhaps her statement offended him, but she was only telling the truth. A man who had started their acquaintance by taking off his pants had no business being offended by what she said.

He said, resuming his folksy tone, “I’ve met the Avatar, you know. He came to the swamp a while ago. A good kid. I think he understands more than people give him credit for.”

Describing the Avatar as “a good kid” took her aback. She suspected he wanted to see how she responded. She did what she usually did when being tested: remained silent.

When he received no response, he continued, “And then later he asked for our help with the invasion, ‘cause he needed water benders. We came along, and, well, the invasion didn’t go so well and now we’re here.”

Mai said, surprised, “You’re _water benders_?”

“We are.”

“I thought the Water Tribe lived at the poles.”

“Oh, it’s too cold there.” Huu shivered slightly just talking about it. “The Southern Water Tribe boys told us about it, all ice and snow and freezin’ wind. You gotta wear _two_ pairs of pants to stay warm.” He held up two fingers for emphasis.

A scrap of conversation she overheard long ago at one of her mother’s parties floated to mind. She asked, “Isn’t there a special prison for water benders?”

Huu’s voice was sad when he answered. “There is. That's where most of my kin were taken. It's just me an' Tho an' Due here." He came to the end of his half of the row of speckled orchids, and wiped the pollen from his fingers. He continued, “The Warden was havin’ a problem with this black algae growin’ in his pond. Foul smellin’ stuff, and he couldn’t get rid of it. They would scoop it up and burn it, but it always came back in a few weeks. So, when we swamp folk came along, he asked for a few of us, because he got the idea we could get rid of it for good with water bendin’.”

Mai raised an eyebrow. “Prisoners aren’t allowed to bend.”

“Not for their own purposes. The Warden makes an exception if it’s for _his_ purposes.”

Poon had to be bribing or blackmailing someone on the Prison Tribunal to get away with that. She asked, “So, you got rid of the algae?”

“Sure enough. Cleaned up the whole pond. And after that, the Warden kept us around to take care of problems he couldn’t fix with fire. Not to boast, but I’m good with plants.”

“Why don’t you try to escape?”

Huu was thoughtful. “I’ve mulled on it. But I wouldn’t want to leave without my kin.” He looked grandfatherly, with his gray hair and beard and wrinkles around his eyes. She understood—if she had the chance to escape, she wouldn’t leave without Ty Lee. “And, well, the Warden made it clear if any of us here gave him trouble, he'd find a way to make sure we _all_ pay for it.” He shook his head. “Now, practically speaking, this is an island, with military types all over. It’d be tough gettin’ offshore, and if we tried to hide, well, I don’t know as we’d blend in too well with the Fire Nation folks, even with pants.”

Mai finished her last orchid. The two of them had been gradually moving closer together as they worked down the line, and now they were sitting next to each other. She said, “You should have stayed home.”

He closed his eyes briefly and said, “You have to do what you think is right, even if it’s difficult for you.”

She said coldly, “Invading another country is not _right_.”

Huu raised his eyebrows slightly and replied, “Ain’t that what the Fire Nation’s been doing for a hundred years now?”

“That’s not the same as what you did at all.”

“Oh." He paused. "Why not?”

“Because we’re trying to bring peace and civilization to the rest of the world. And, believe me, there are parts of the Earth Kingdom that certainly need it.”

“All right,” he said, holding up a hand, “but riddle me this. If all places are the same, as you say, then why have a war to try to make ‘em all alike?”

Mai crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Huu. She thought he was just an old, overweight simpleton from the woods, but he was surprisingly clever. She said, “There have been countless wars throughout history, cities and nations fighting each other for land and wealth and power. How many wars have there been between different groups in the Earth Kingdom alone? Thousands? If there’s one ruler, one people, this endless warfare will stop.”

He folded his arms over his chest, but did not glare at her. He looked curious. “That’s the Avatar’s duty, keeping peace and balance.”

She dropped her arms to her sides. “The Avatar is one person, and isn’t accountable to anyone else. Who’s going to stop the Avatar from making bad decisions, or being corrupt?”

“I could ask the same questions about the Fire Lord.”

Mai stood up and walked away from Huu. No one could stop the Fire Lord from doing anything, not even burning his own son. She didn’t want to think about what someone could do with the power and the worship among the uneducated masses that the Avatar had.

The gong for lunch sounded. Huu hopped off his stool and said, “Well, workin’ in the greenhouse has never been this eventful. Usually, it’s just me talkin’ to the plants, which is all right, ‘cause plants are interestin’, but they don’t talk back-and-forth like this.”

“I’m glad I could entertain you,” she said, her voice hard, and stalked to the door. She didn’t look at him on the way to the cafeteria and she didn’t speak to him when they came back from lunch.


	9. Chapter 9

After dinner, Mai and Ty Lee sat on the floor near their cell doors, commiserating about work duty.

Ty Lee hated the laundry: the dull grayness of the wash room, the harsh, antiseptic smell of the soap, the thick, hair-frizzing humidity. Most of all, she hated the endless monotony of the work. The other workers ignored her, except to order her to wash particularly nasty items no one else wanted to touch. She didn’t even know how to do laundry, and the only people willing to show her anything were the Kyoshi Warriors, who also worked there. Reaching through the bars, she showed Mai how chapped and dry her hands were after only two days.

However, Ty Lee was amused by Mai’s description of Huu, especially his aversion to wearing pants. She said, “At least you work with someone funny.”

“He’s less funny in person," Mai replied. She recounted his remarks about the war and the Avatar.

Ty Lee said, in a tone that was as close as she got to lecturing, “You shouldn’t take him so seriously. He’s from the Earth Kingdom—he has a skewed perspective. The important thing is, he’s trying to be nice. If what he says bothers you, just ignore him and concentrate on all those beautiful flowers.” She spoke of the orchids in a wistful tone.

Mai said, “The pollen from those beautiful flowers makes my eyes water.”

“Well, I’m happy to trade jobs with you any time, even if it means shoveling rhino poop.” Ty Lee suddenly seized the end of her braid and held it up to her eyes, examining it like a gem-cutter searching for flaws in a stone. She exclaimed, exasperated, "Split ends!"

At lights out, the two of them went to bed. Mai slept fitfully, the guards who had attempted to attack her in her cell lurking in her mind.

Late in the night, she heard quiet voices in the corridor. She sat up, listening. Anger and fear flashed in her when she recognized Ty Lee crying. Silently, she crept close to the bars and, staying low, peeked through.

Two figures in hooded cloaks stood in the hall. “Oh, hush now,” a woman said, her irritation clear despite her soft tone. “You’re going to wake everyone up.”

Ty Lee sniffled. “I never thought anyone would come see me. I can’t believe you’re here.”

Another woman whispered, “Of course we’d come see you. We went to see you when you ran off to that ridiculous circus, remember.”

Relief flooded through Mai, and she retreated from the bars. These were two of Ty Lee’s older sisters. After a moment, she recognized the voices: Ty Zan and Min Lee.

Ty Zan said, “We can’t stay long. But we wanted to tell you, regardless of what’s happened, that you’re still our sister, and we will do what little we can to help you.” She made a disapproving sound. “I always knew Mai was a bad influence. Normal people don’t carry that many knives around.”

Mai covered her mouth to keep from snickering. Ty Lee said, defensive, “It’s not her fault.”

Ty Zan started to argue, but Min Lee interrupted. “It was hard enough to get in here. Let’s not waste time arguing.”

The three sisters spent the rest of the short visit talking about what was happening in Ty Lee’s family—with seven children, there was always a lot happening. When a guard arrived to show the visitors out, Ty Lee started crying again.

Ty Zan scolded, “Didn’t I tell you to stop crying?” Her own voice was thick with tears.

“We’ll be back,” Min Lee said gently. “We can’t say when, but we’ll see you as soon as we can.”

Mai ducked back into bed while the two women passed by her cell.

After the door to the cellblock closed, she scooted back to the bars and whispered, “I told you someone would come see you.”

There was a mix of gratitude and disbelief in Ty Lee’s voice. “My parents told them not to.”

“And you and your sisters always listen to your parents.”

“I hope they don’t get in trouble," Ty Lee said anxiously. "I hope they come back soon.”

“They promised they would.”

Ty Lee was too agitated to go back to sleep, so Mai sat up with her until morning.

During breakfast the next day, a man tried to trip Ty Lee as she passed his table, but she easily recovered without spilling any of her juk. Mai noticed the men sitting at that table all had burns on their forearms in the pattern of a flame within a triangle—a sign of gang affiliation, according to her uncle. She had noticed other prisoners with different designs: lightning bolts, fire lizards, a red sun. She suspected the gang members were planning something similar to what the three guards had tried. The thought made her lose what little appetite she had for her lumpy breakfast mush.

At work, she spoke to Huu only when necessary. Ty Lee was right--she should appreciate working with someone who didn’t seem to want to harm her, but she didn't want to engage in personal conversation with him.

On the way to the exercise yard in the afternoon, a man intentionally bumped Mai so hard he knocked her into a wall. He grinned maliciously and offered an oily apology, while his friends laughed. She glared at him, and spotted another triangular burn mark. This bunch was clearly a threat.

During open-air time, Mai and Ty Lee kept to the periphery of the war prisoner group. Energized by her sisters’ visit, Ty Lee somersaulted over the ground like a stone skipped across water. The war prisoners looked amazed—some laughed, a few clapped. Having an appreciative audience made Ty Lee smile like she hadn’t since she was imprisoned.

Mai was pleased by her friend’s happiness, until she noticed a Fire Nation prisoner studying Ty Lee with interest. She turned to face him, her eyes narrowed.

He was short and wiry, with pale skin, and tufts of black hair fringing his mostly bald head. There were many prisoners who had given the two of them threatening looks, and most of them were more physically intimidating than this man. But he disturbed her more than any of the others. There was a predatory calculation in his expression that reminded her of Azula. She checked his visible skin for burn marks or tattoos, but he didn't seem to have any. He studied her for a moment, then smiled and turned away. She watched him retreat across the yard, wishing she had just one knife.

That night, Mai lay awake for a long time, thinking about the wiry man. She decided against mentioning him to Hansuke unless she saw him watching her and Ty Lee again. Half the prison had given her nasty looks, and she couldn’t report them all.

Everything was quiet in the cellblock, until the outer door creaked open. A figure completely covered in a long, dark cloak passed swiftly by, stopping in front of Ty Lee’s cell. Mai got up, staying close to the wall, to see who had arrived.

The mysterious person whispered so quietly Mai couldn’t understand the words. The hood never lowered. After a brief conversation, the figure passed a scroll to Ty Lee, then swept back down the hall.

Mai leaned against the cell bars and asked, “Who was that?”

The visitor was Ty Lee’s sister Ty Yun, who taught music at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. As a teacher at one of the most elite schools in the Fire Nation, she would lose her job for having contact with a traitor, which explained why she kept her face hidden and left so quickly. Still, she had taken the risk of coming to the prison.

The scroll was a letter from another sister, Mu Ty, who couldn’t come in person because she was on a zoological expedition on some remote Fire Nation island. Ty Lee cried while reading it.

When she eventually quieted down, Mai said, “You know you shouldn’t keep that letter.”

Ty Lee sounded pained and offended. “I’ll hide it.”

“Where?”

“I’ll…pry up a stone in the wall.”

“At the Boiling Rock, the guards inspect the cells for irregularities.”

Anger flashed in Ty Lee’s voice. “Well, this isn’t the Boiling Rock.”

Mai sighed. “Do what you want. But if anyone finds that, your sister will be in trouble. And then the rest of your sisters could be in trouble.”

It was a long time before Ty Lee agreed to destroy the letter.

Two nights later, Ty Lee’s sister Jiao Lee came. She cried even more than Ty Lee during the visit. Three nights after that, Lee Qing arrived. She made up for being the last by bringing a box of rice candy, Ty Lee’s favorite.

The visits cheered Ty Lee up immensely. The day following each one, she seemed almost like her old relentlessly cheerful self. Despite the history of turbulence in Ty Lee’s relationship with her sisters, they had come out in force to show their support.

A week after the first visit, one more person came to see Ty Lee, just before dawn. When Mai peeked out into the hallway this time, she glimpsed Ty Lee’s mother, silently hugging her daughter through the bars.

Mai slipped back to bed. The old jealousy she felt when she saw Ty Lee’s mother hug her—when she saw Zuko’s mother hug him—stirred, but weakly. If _her_ mother came to see her, they would probably snap at each other.

She was glad Ty Lee’s mother was here. There was no point in everyone being as alone as she was.


	10. Chapter 10

After two weeks, Mai and Ty Lee had settled into the daily routine at the Imperial Prison: meals, work duty, exercise, sleep. Being berated by the Warden and harassed by other prisoners had become routine as well. People cursed them, threw things at them, bumped and shoved them, and tried to burn their clothes and hair. When Hansuke wasn’t around, many of the guards just ignored it or watched, either not caring or enjoying the show. At least Ming was true to her offer to help them. Several times, she prevented situations from escalating.

Some of the incidents made Ty Lee cry. Mai responded to this intimidation with cold indifference on her face, but inside she felt anger steadily building. The two of them had helped capture Ba Sing Se for the Fire Nation, which was more than any of these lowlife criminals or their petty tyrant jailers had ever done or ever would do, and _this_ was how their compatriots treated them? Weighed on the scale of unfeeling national interest, the sum of all their actions benefited rather than harmed the Fire Nation. But they had both been marked as _traitors_ now, so nothing else mattered.

She was reluctant to admit it, but she truly feared for their safety. The schoolyard bullying they'd been subjected to was the smoke signaling fire. Azula may have been worse than any individual at the prison, but there was only one of her. With so many possible threats, Mai didn’t know where to focus her suspicions.

Their grudging alliance with the Earth Kingdom prisoners did give them some protection. Ty Lee found a way to strengthen her relationship with the Kyoshi Warriors—teaching them chi blocking. The girls seemed to enjoy learning it, although they did not enjoy having the technique demonstrated on them. Mai had no interest in teaching shurikenjutsu.

Most of the male war prisoners ignored her and Ty Lee. Bato, the leader of the group, tolerated their presence because Mai had helped members of his tribe during the escape, albeit inadvertently. An Earth Kingdom man who apparently didn’t have a real name, called the Mechanist, approached her once to discuss knife throwing. It was an odd conversation, with him using terms like “trajectory” and “wind resistance.” The water benders she saw constantly, between work duty, meals, and open-air time.

There were a handful of Fire Nation inmates who talked to Huu, which puzzled Mai. None of the other war prisoners spoke to the domestic convicts. When the invasion captives first arrived, there had been a series of nasty fights, but the war prisoners proved tougher than they looked, and an uneasy truce was declared. But Huu seemed to have made a few Fire Nation friends, both men and women, some of them very rough-looking.

She had come to her own truce with Huu after the argument on their first day working together. They talked about the garden, the food, the guards, and other details of prison life, but there was no more discussion of the war or the Avatar. Being pulled away from the greenhouse to shovel another pile of rhino poop once a week made talking to him seem not so bad.

One morning, she and Huu were pollinating a set of pale yellow orchids with a single splash of dark pink in the center of each petal. The two of them looked up when several workers ran past the open greenhouse doors, shouting.

An inmate rushed inside, red-faced with panic. He cried, “The main irrigation pipe’s burst! _The Warden’s house is going to flood if we don’t stop that water!_ Help us, please!”

Unperturbed, Huu said, “I’ll be right back,” and followed the man.

Mai stood up and stretched her arms and hands. It would serve Poon right, having his house flooded. She heard quick footsteps approaching the greenhouse again. Turning toward the doors, she opened her mouth to say that Huu had already gone, but stopped.

On the ground outside was a shadow in the shape of a person holding what looked like a club.

Adrenaline spiking, she swiftly and quietly backed up behind the set of vine-entwined stakes in the middle of the room. Peering through a gap in the vines, she saw four men enter the greenhouse. One carried a wood plank with a row of sharp nails in the end of it, and another a length of heavy metal pipe. The other two did not carry visible weapons, and were probably fire benders. They were all tall and heavily muscled and looked like they were out for blood.

They were. _Hers_.

She stood completely still, barely breathing, watching the men. The man with the pipe swung it in front of him, calling, “Hey, girl, come on out. We want to talk to you.”

One of the fire benders said, “Don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt a pretty girl _too_ much. There aren’t enough pretty girls like you and your friend in this place. We can’t afford to waste ‘em.”

The men laughed. Mai thought fast, eyes darting all around. There was no way she was getting past them to the front doors. She wasn’t strong enough to overpower them all, and she couldn’t evade them all in such close quarters. Her only chance was the rear exit.

The men fanned around the island of vines, catcalling her. There was not enough room for two of them to walk abreast. The stakes supporting the vines were light and easily broken, which she had discovered by accidentally breaking one a few days ago. As one of the fire benders came around the vines on her right, she snapped a stake in half. The fire bender shot flame at her, but she ducked low and it sailed over her. She sprung up and forward, driving the wood into his solar plexus with the full power of her back and legs. He stumbled backward, crashing into the man with the pipe behind him. They both fell to the ground, dragging vines and flowerpots with them into a heap.

She felt the heat of another fireball behind her and whipped to the side, the flame passing close to her face and singeing a few hairs. The fire bender advanced, firing again. She slashed her stake through the air, breaking up the flame, but the wood disintegrated.

Mai backed up a step and grabbed a watering can from the table. She hurled it at his head. The bender twisted away, but the can's spout struck high on his cheek, close to an eye. He listed to the side, unbalanced, instinctively reaching a hand up to shield his eyes.

The man with the board eagerly pushed the stunned fire bender aside and swung at her. She sidestepped. With the other three men momentarily on the floor, she had a little room to maneuver. Seizing his arm, Mai flipped him head over heels. He banged into the table along the right wall, then landed hard on the gravel.

She bolted for the back doors. The men thrashed in the tangled mess of vines behind her. A wild fireball sailed wide past her, striking high on the glass wall of the greenhouse. Once she was through the doors she could get away clean. She needed to alert the guards--the men had mentioned Ty Lee, and her friend could be in danger right now.

Mai threw open the door, but barely made two steps outside before a wall of fire almost as tall as she was roared all around her. She jumped back, shielding her face with her arms.

She was trapped. The fire blocked her path forward and to either side. The four men came to stand in the doorway behind her.

Slowly, the fire lowered, revealing two more men. One was an enormous man with a flaming heart tattooed on his left bicep; the other was the wiry man who had been watching Ty Lee in the exercise yard.

The tattooed man grabbed her arms, twisting them behind her back. The wiry man smiled, his eyes glinting with malice and satisfaction. He said, “You see why I wanted so many of you to deal with her, and even more to deal with the other girl. Anyone who used to fight beside the great Princess Azula should not be underestimated." His voice was smooth and resonant, and he sounded to Mai like a government official practiced at public speaking. Perhaps that's what he had been once. "Now, miss," he continued, almost politely, "if you have no further objections, we will see to our business.”

Mai gritted her teeth. Whatever they did to her, she would not give them the satisfaction of showing pain.

Suddenly, the two fire benders standing furthest from her yelped and jerked backwards. They were lifted off their feet and pulled into the greenhouse, like puppets worked by a violent puppeteer.

The tattooed man shouted, “What the hell was that, Boss?”

The wiry man replied, “Hold her.” He nodded to the man with the pipe and the man with the board, and the three of them cautiously advanced to the door.

The man with the board peered inside the greenhouse and said, “I don’t see anybody in there.”

A moment later, vines whipped through the doorway. Half wrapped themselves around the man with the board, the other half around the man with the pipe. They whacked at the vines with their weapons, but the vines moved too fast. The men yelled as they were dragged into the building.

The wiry man shot a long plume of flame into the greenhouse. A moment later, a large, thick vine shot toward him. He burned the big vine, but failed to notice the smaller vines snaking along the doorframe above him. The small vines snagged his arms.

The tattooed man let go of Mai to help his boss. She scrambled away from him. He grabbed the wiry man’s legs, pulling against the vines, like tug-of-war. She kicked the back of the tattooed man’s left knee, hard. He lost his balance and his grip on his boss, who shot toward the greenhouse like an arrow released from a bow.

Leaning his weight on one leg, the tattooed man turned and released a massive fire blast at Mai. She veered to the left sharply, dodging, and circled around to his back again. He was big, strong, and resilient, but he was not fast. He pivoted to face her once more, arms wide for another blast, and she seized her chance. Before he could fire again, she darted in close and elbowed him in the neck.

He gasped, the fire on his fingers extinguished with his breath. She slammed the heel of her hand up into his chin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a vine arc in the air. She leaned back, her torso parallel to the ground, arms and one leg extended for balance. The vines brushed her as they curled around the tattooed man. She rolled to the ground, and the man was lifted up and over her. He vanished into the greenhouse.

Mai quickly backed away from the door, but no more vines emerged.

A few moments later, guards surrounded the building. Hansuke ran up to her. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “You need to go to the laundry room…”

“A squad’s already been dispatched. Do you know where the attackers went?”

Mai gestured to the greenhouse. A trio of guards went in through the rear doors, ready to fire bend.

One of them stuck his head back out a moment later and said, “Uh, Captain, I don’t know what happened, but...there’s a bunch of guys tied up with vines in here. They look pretty spooked.”

Hansuke went inside. Mai looked through the doorway. There were the six men, all lashed together in a heap in the center of the room.

The man who had wielded the board was chanting, wild-eyed, “The vines! _Don’t touch the vines!_ They tried to eat us!”

Hansuke muttered, “I’m not looking forward to writing the report on this."

Confused and anxious, Mai waited outside while the guards rounded up the assailants. Her heart took a long time to stop racing. She hoped Ty Lee was all right. Carefully poking part of a vine left on the grass with her foot, she wondered who had moved the vines like that and how. She had never seen anything like it.

As the guards escorted the wiry man and his gang back to the west wall of the prison, Huu appeared on the other side of the low wooden fence behind the greenhouse and asked, “You okay?”

She nodded. He explained that he became suspicious when he saw that the irrigation pipe had a clean break, like it had been cut through on purpose. So, he sent Tho to get the guards while Due diverted the flood from the Warden’s house.

Something clicked in Mai’s head, and she looked at the water bender with wide eyes. She glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby, and said quietly, “You did that with the vines.”

He answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “Ayup. Bended the water in ‘em.”

“Nice trick.”

“It comes in handy." He grinned. "I thought it best if I cleared out quick after, so the guards wouldn’t see. Some of ‘em are nervous enough about havin’ water benders around as it is.”

She and Huu stood in silence for a few moments. Even after fighting six men, he looked completely calm. She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. This was the second time someone unexpectedly stepped in to save her, and she felt a mix of surprise, relief, annoyance at needing help, plus annoyance at _who_ had helped her. But she also felt gratitude.

Mai straightened her clothes and hair. Clearing her throat, she avoided looking at Huu as she said, “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

He said, “I’m just lookin’ out for my friends.”


	11. Chapter 11

After dealing with the wiry man and his gang, Hansuke brought Mai to the guards' office to answer questions. The guard filling out paperwork there left to give them privacy. A few moments later, Ty Lee was escorted into the room by a pair of female jailers. She was apparently unhurt.

She jumped on Mai in a hug, exclaiming, “I’ve been worried sick about you!”

At Hansuke's prompting, Ty Lee explained what had happened in the laundry room.

“Everything started out like usual,” she began. “Everyone was _grumpy_. Well, I wasn’t, because I’d thought of some exercises for the Kyoshi Warriors to do to help them improve their…”

Ty Lee just stopped herself from admitting to the Captain of the Guards that she was teaching a group of enemy prisoners a highly effective hand-to-hand combat technique. “Calligraphy skills," she finished, a little over enthusiastically.

Mai almost laughed—her friend had never had the patience for calligraphy. Ty Lee continued, “You know, I’m just trying to educate those poor uncultured Earth Kingdom girls.” She smiled broadly.

Hansuke gave her a ‘ _Get on with it_ ’ look, and Ty Lee did. “So, we were talking about _calligraphy_ , in the laundry room, when the supervisor told me to go wash a set of sheets from the Infirmary.” She wrinkled her nose. “Stuff from the Infirmary is always the _worst_ …"

Mai settled back in her chair, ready for a long story. Ty Lee couldn’t help herself. Now that the danger was past, she was enjoying having an audience.

Ty Lee described how she went to the narrow room off of the main laundry area, where particularly disgusting times were quarantined, to wash a set of vomit-covered sheets. Her voice was plaintive as she explained that she spent a lot of time, alone, in that little room, washing all kinds of gross, smelly things. She had started washing the sheets a second time when she heard a familiar _whooshing_ sound behind her.

Instinctively, she flattened herself against the wall and narrowly avoided a giant fireball. Two men she didn’t recognize blocked the room’s only doorway. They moved to attack again. She moved faster, jumping up to a small ventilation window set high in the wall.

After squeezing through the window, she emerged in the exercise yard. At the time, the only people in it were a pair of prisoners mending a section of the fence around the kuai ball net and the guard overseeing them. For a moment she had thought she was free, but then the two benders re-appeared, scrambling through an emergency door into the yard. An alarm should have sounded to alert the guards, but none did.

Ty Lee had been shocked to see six more people follow the two fire benders: three men and three women. Two of the men wielded long knives.

The guard ordered the inmates to stop, while the prisoners working on the fence ran. Two fire benders split off to attack the guard and quickly knocked him unconscious. The rest of the group pursued Ty Lee.

Out in the open, it was much easier for Ty Lee to move. But every time she closed in on one of her attackers, a blast of fire or a sweeping blade from someone else drove her away. Every time she tried to take to the air, the fire benders drove her to the ground by aiming torrents of flame high. The group had planned for her style of fighting.

She was quickly surrounded by eight people who knew better than to let her touch them. The knife-fighters rushed her, and when she jumped to the side she landed right in the hands of a waiting fire bender. He gripped her arm. When she tried to twist away, three others quickly seized her other arm and legs, holding her up off the ground. They started carrying her back toward the building.

Mai raised her eyebrows. Ty Lee admitted, “I was really scared! I tried to break free but there were too many of them. I didn’t know what else to do, so I started yelling for help. At that point, I didn’t think anybody would come.” She suddenly smiled. “But someone did!”

The Fire Nation gang had hauled Ty Lee halfway back to the prison building when she spotted a flash of movement just beyond the group. Ty Lee craned her head and saw four figures rapidly closing in. Her attackers noticed the incoming threat a heartbeat later.

The Kyoshi Warriors had arrived.

The women holding Ty Lee’s legs let go to face the girls. Ty Lee flipped over and freed herself from the grip of the men holding her arms.

The gang squared off against Ty Lee and the Kyoshi Warriors. But before a full battle could erupt, a six-foot wheel of fire whirled between the two groups. Several combatants were knocked down. An angry, authoritative voice then ordered everyone on the ground, with their hands over their heads.

Ty Lee exclaimed to Mai, “It was Ming! I was really surprised. I mean, I'm so used to seeing her be nice, I didn’t think she could _yell_ like that. And she’s got some punch in her fire bending.”

Hansuke smiled slightly. Mai replied, “She _is_ a prison guard. You don’t last in this job if you can’t handle yourself.”

“Well, when everyone saw Ming and the half dozen guards with her, the fight was over.”

Ty Lee was quiet for a few moments while Hansuke jotted down notes. Then she cleared her throat and asked, “Are the Kyoshi Warriors in trouble?”

He stopped writing and raised a brow. “You’re not asking if _you’re_ in trouble?” At Ty Lee’s frightened look, he explained, “Generally, when there’s a fight, all parties are punished. I believe you two will be let off with a warning, considering your, shall we say, _relative_ circumstances. I wouldn’t worry about anyone else if I were you.”

Ty Lee paused while he continued writing, then said hesitantly, “But…they were defending me. And those prisoners attacked a guard, so they were kind of defending him too.”

Mai was surprised to hear Ty Lee challenging the Captain—defending people was threatening to become a habit for her.

Hansuke’s eyebrows furrowed while he considered her words. “That--is a valid point. _I_ would be willing to let them off with a warning. They do have a history of good behavior. However, the decision is ultimately the Warden’s.” Ty Lee looked worried.

When it was Mai’s turn to tell her story, she was brief. Hansuke asked if she had seen who stopped the wiry man’s gang. Of course, she hadn’t _seen_ Huu manipulate the vines, so she answered truthfully.

Hansuke looked puzzled. “The men say the vines attacked them as though on their own. But that doesn’t make any sense. Someone had to be moving them.” He touched a finger to his lips. “It sounds like those rope tricks they do in the circus.”

At the mention of the circus, Ty Lee looked like she was about to start telling stories about her days as an acrobat. Mai offered, “Maybe they know who it was, but they don’t want to say. You know, nobody wants to be known as a snitch around here, even if it would hurt their enemies.”

She hoped no one would think of the water bending connection. It _was_ an alien idea. Most people at the prison, Hansuke included, seemed to think the water benders were stupid. This attitude should help shield Huu from suspicion.

Thinking about it, she remembered occasionally seeing parts of plants bulging and twisting in odd ways while Huu worked on them. She realized now that he had been doing a little surreptitious bending--witnessing that was probably why she understood how the vines had moved. It was the same idea, only much more dramatic.

Hansuke looked thoughtful. “Well, whoever it was did you—and me, honestly—a service. This was too close." He shook his head. "Your uncle’s not going to be happy. But, maybe he can use this to support his case for bringing you back to the Boiling Rock.”

Mai asked, “Who’s the short, wiry, balding guy?”

A short laugh escaped the Captain. “His name’s Junren—a career criminal, specializing in smuggling. I’ve suspected for a while that he’s one of the main players in the prison black market, but he’s so careful, I was never able to prove anything.” He locked his notes in a desk drawer. “I’m surprised he organized this, actually. I took him for a businessman, just wanting to make money and not get involved in personal vendettas. I had no idea he felt so strongly about traitors.”

Mai was not reassured by the idea that even people who usually weren’t violent wanted to hurt her and Ty Lee.

The two of them waited in the office, watching other guards come and go with papers of various kinds, until the Warden returned. He had left that morning to go to a meeting with the Prison Tribunal in the city, which explained why the attacks had been launched today. He finally re-appeared late in the afternoon, looking very unhappy. Hansuke brought Mai and Ty Lee into his office.

Poon said, holding up a scroll, “I have received a letter from the Warden of the Boiling Rock expressing concern for your safety after today’s incidents. He wishes to have word from the two of you personally that you are unharmed.”

Mai glanced at Hansuke standing behind the Warden’s chair. So, he had already informed her uncle of what happened. She was certain Izo had promised a personal visit if he was not satisfied that the two of them were all right.

While they wrote, Poon paced. After they finished, he gave a speech about how he never showed leniency to prisoners—especially traitors—but Mai’s uncle scared him enough that he would make an exception just this once. He didn’t actually admit he was afraid of Izo, but it was clear.

Hansuke asked what was to be done with the Earth Kingdom girls. The question made Ty Lee hold her breath for a moment. Poon waved a hand and told him to do what he saw fit, then ordered them all out of the office.

Ty Lee looked relieved. Mai almost smiled. Her uncle was not the only thing worrying Poon now. The Prison Tribunal would not take kindly to inmates pulling off coordinated, armed attacks like this. It reflected badly on the Warden in charge.

Hansuke posted the letters. Looking relieved himself that this mess had ended as well as could be expected, he then sent the two of them on to dinner.

The Kyoshi Warriors were late coming to the cafeteria, doubtless having been held for questioning too, but they did come. The Earth Kingdom girls shared their side of the story. They had heard the first scuffle with the fire benders in the side room, and then slipped out of the laundry to see what was happening. When the gang overpowered Ty Lee, they came to help.

Ty Lee was touched that they had stepped in despite the threat of being punished for fighting. Mai made sure they knew that Ty Lee had argued for leniency for them. When Akimi expressed disappointment at not getting to use chi blocking in a real fight, Mai pointed out that, if any of them had, they probably _would_ have been punished.

Back in the cellblock, Ty Lee speculated about the mystery of the vines. Mai revealed that Huu had moved them with water bending. Ty Lee’s eyes widened, but she promised to keep the secret. She asked, “Do you think something like this will happen again?”

Mai shrugged. “Probably not anything this elaborate, but we still have to be careful.”

Ty Lee attempted to be optimistic, but sounded discouraged. “Well, it’s a relief knowing we have people to help us, at least.”

“I just wonder what we’re going to be asked for in return.”

“Oh, Mai!" Ty Lee chastised. "I’m happy to teach the Kyoshi girls. It’s fun, and it keeps me in shape. And Huu helped you because he likes you.”

Mai’s eyebrows shot up. Ty Lee said, giggling, “Not like _that_! As, like, a granddaughter or something.” She looked thoughtful. “It must be really hard, being so far away from your home.”

“It was his choice to come with the invasion force.”

“I know. But it’s still sad.” Ty Lee was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Do you miss your family?”

“I don’t miss living with them. But--I guess I do. They’re better off wherever they are now, far away from this pathetic melodrama.”

“Do you think they’ll come back, when the war’s over?”

“I doubt it. I’ll still be a traitor. My father’s career will still be dead. There’s no reason for them to come back.”

They were both silent for a while, until Ty Lee asked hesitantly, “Mai, can I ask you a question?”

“Why not?”

“What do you think the world would be like if the war never started?”

Mai craned her head to see her friend better. “What kind of a question is that?”

“Oh, probably a stupid question,” Ty Lee said nervously. “It’s just sometimes you’ve got nothing to do here except sit around and think, and you get crazy ideas, you know.” She twirled her fingers to emphasize the craziness.

“I’m not saying you can’t think about it," Mai clarified. "We’re already here, it’s not like it’ll do you any harm. But why were you thinking about it?”

“Well, I’ve been talking to some of the war prisoners. And I started thinking…Just, you know, Fire Lord Sozin wanted to bring peace and prosperity to the rest of the world, right? Well, what if a war wasn’t the way to do that? What if the Fire Nation’s just been causing more suffering all these years?”

Mai mused, “Azula would burn this entire place down if she heard you say that.”

Ty Lee made a worried noise. Mai added, “But it’s not like she’ll ever know.” Ty Lee sniffled quietly. Mai leaned against the bars and said quietly, “Hey. One of your sisters is probably going to come visit again sometime soon. And it’s good that you’ve got new friends, even if they are enemies of the Fire Nation.”

“And don’t forget your new friends, the water benders.” Ty Lee smiled, despite her nascent tears.

Ty Lee’s new friends were a group of young girls who had a thing for gaudy fans and outlandish makeup, while hers were a bunch of bumpkins from a swamp who ate bugs and didn’t wear pants.

Mai sighed. “I guess since we’re traitors now, it’s just as well that we have enemies as friends.”


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning, Mai met Huu at the greenhouse as usual. She was surprised to see how much the place had already been cleaned up. Flowerpots and planters were set back in their places; vines were re-wrapped around the unbroken stakes. All of the damaged orchids were lined up on a table, many of them propped up with carefully placed sticks.

Huu said, indicating the orchids with his thumb, “I hear the Warden was in here all night.”

An image of Poon hovering over his orchids like a father with a sick child popped into Mai's head. The inmates responsible for this were going to be in solitary confinement for a _very_ long time.

Huu tended to the plants while Mai cleaned up debris. She tried to forget yesterday, to tell herself it had been just another fight, but honestly it hadn’t been.

The people who wanted to hurt her and Ty Lee wouldn’t stop. The next attack might be tomorrow or six months from now, but it _would_ come. She thought of the men with the triangular burn scars. This gang had so far restricted themselves to small humiliations, but who knew what they were planning? And some of the guards would be happy to help. The few allies she and Ty Lee had wouldn’t always be around.

She picked stray objects up from the ground and piled them on a table. There was no way out of this situation, until her uncle got them back— _if_ he got them back. Izo was one of very few people she had ever had any faith in, but she knew he was not all-powerful. He was in a precarious position, and if he wasn’t careful he could end up hurting himself as well as failing her. She sighed. Every time she got her hopes up about anything—Omashu being interesting, Zuko coming back home against all odds—everything turned out worse than she could have imagined.

The only thing she had to look forward to now was being moved to a different prison. It was pathetic.

Huu said, “Mai, if you keep bangin' everythin' so hard you’re gonna break somethin’.”

She stopped, a trowel in her hands, and looked at him. He regarded her for a moment, then asked, “You upset by what happened yesterday?”

“No,” she said quickly. “ _Nothing_ happened.” She silently placed the trowel on the table.

He gestured around the greenhouse. “Well, _somethin'_ happened.”

She picked up a pair of heavy, slightly scorched gloves and said casually, “I’ve been in plenty of fights before. And we expected someone to try something.”

Huu frowned slightly, although the expression did not change his general air of bone-deep, unshakable calm. He said mildly, “Even when you expect somethin' bad, it can still be a shock when it actually happens.”

“I’m shocked when _good_ things happen.”

He rummaged through the storage shelves, pulling out empty pots. “Why?”

Mai made an exasperated sound. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in prison, and we’re never getting out. Good things generally don’t happen to people in prison.”

He held up a pot, comparing its size to a broken one that held a pale purple orchid with dark gray tipped stigma. He stopped and looked at her, curious. “You don’t think you’ll get out after the Avatar defeats the Fire Lord?”

She looked incredulous. “Do you seriously still think that’s going to happen?”

As she had gotten to know him better, she’d realized that Huu, while a country bumpkin with peculiar ways, was not a fool. Yet he clung to this naive belief in the Avatar.

He said simply, “I do.”

She threw a batch of broken pollinating sticks onto the table and demanded, “Why? The Avatar had his chance during the eclipse. He failed. All that came of the invasion was you and your friends getting captured.”

“The invasion didn’t work,” he replied, with no trace of bitterness or regret, “but the Avatar is still out there. He’ll fight again when the time is right and end the war.”

Mai closed her eyes for a moment, willing her rising temper to cool. She remembered Ty Lee’s words about how far the water benders were from home. Of course Huu would want to believe something that gave him hope of going home someday, no matter how ridiculous. She shouldn’t yell at him for it.

She said, “He doesn’t have much time left. Do you know about Sozin’s Comet?” Huu nodded as he began digging into the purple orchid's soil. “Well, then you know the Fire Nation will have the power to finish this war once and for all. The earth benders won’t be able to hold out. The Avatar won’t be able to beat the Fire Lord.” She sighed. “I know, it’s bad news for you, and now it’s bad news for me too, but it’s reality. There’s no way your side will win. We’re both going to be here until we die.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe I’ll get lucky for once and die young.”

Huu said, like he was noting that it was going to rain, “Time is an illusion. Death, too.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I can understand taking the attitude that time is an illusion, because we _are_ in prison for life. But, death? That’s real. Everybody dies.” She remembered Fire Lord Azulon’s funeral, her grandfather Sanyo’s funeral, her grandmother Anzu’s funeral. She wondered whether prisoners who died would even get a proper funeral.

As he moved the purple orchid to its new pot, he said, “Of course everyone dies. But everyone is reborn as well.”

The old reincarnation myth—it had been a while since she'd heard it. The idea was considered superstition among educated people. Most of the Fire Sages didn’t even really believe in it anymore. She shook her head. “I’d just as well skip doing this all over again.”

Huu chuckled. “I reckon you can’t just decide not to be reborn.”

“Why not?”

“Because everythin’ in the world is connected. Everyone is. Look at us,” he drew a line with his dirt smudged forefinger between the two of them. “You were born in this huge city in the Fire Nation, and I was born in the Foggy Swamp—a long time before you—and our people’ve been at war for a hundred years, and still, here we are." He nodded slowly. "You can’t know exactly what form the connection’ll take, but it always finds a way to take root, no matter what’s in the way. All these connections form a kind of web." He held up his hands and splayed his fingers. "You can’t just cut a piece out without damagin’ the whole thing.”

“So you’re saying we’re all trapped, like ant-moths in a spider-fly’s web? That’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”

She figured this would be the comment that made him tell her to stop being so cynical, so critical, so glum, and change the subject. People never bothered telling her _why_ she should stop thinking whatever she was thinking, just that she should stop talking about it.

Instead, he asked, “Why do you see bein' connected to other folks as bein' trapped?”

A flippant reply started to form, but she felt that, since he had helped her yesterday, she should try to answer his question seriously. She sat down on a stool, suddenly weary. “Most of the time, people use their connection to you to control you. You don’t have any freedom to do what _you_ want.”

He inspected the leaves on the battered purple orchid. “I can see what you mean. I’ve noticed a lot of the other prisoners and the guards here doin’ what you describe. But that’s not how it needs to be. That’s not how it is where I’m from.” He scratched his chin and pronounced, “Control is an illusion.”

She countered, “Parents control their children. The Warden controls this prison. The Fire Lord controls most of the world now.”

“Parents _care_ for their children. The Warden controls this prison like he controls this greenhouse: he can keep livin’ things cooped up inside, but he can’t make ‘em do all he wants. If he could, he wouldn’t need all the guards and the locked doors, and he wouldn’t need us takin’ care of the orchids." Huu winked. "And the Fire Lord,” he smiled, “well, no one can control the whole world.”

“Not even the Avatar?”

“Oh, that’s not the Avatar’s job. The Avatar’s supposed to keep the balance between the elements and the nations of the world, not control it.”

She rearranged flowerpots to make more room on the table. “So, no one has any power at all? They can’t change anything?”

And people called _her_ a nihilist.

Huu shook his head. “It’s exactly the opposite." He turned to face her, ignoring the plants. "Everyone affects things, all the time. Most of the time in little ways, sometimes in big ways, and sometimes in ways they can’t imagine. Every once in a while, someone has a chance to change the entire world. Sozin knew he was makin’ a big change when he started the war. But other times, folks don’t realize what they do will change anythin'.”

“Important people can change things," Mai corrected. "Sozin was Fire Lord. Most people don’t have any hope of changing anything, even if we sacrifice a great deal to do it.” Bitterness crept into her voice on her last words.

Huu looked thoughtful. “You know, Ty Lee told us about what happened with you and your feller out at the Boiling Rock. It seems to me that what you chose to do there was significant.”

Mai made an irritated noise. Ty Lee was free to blab her own business to anyone she pleased, but she had no right to spread everyone else's around. “Actually, it’s not. The only good that came of it was my uncle surviving. And, well, you don’t know him, but he’s not sure it was worth what he lost in power and reputation.”

He looked at her steadily and said, “You also saved several of the Avatar’s key allies.”

She rolled her eyes. “And they’re going to help the Avatar end the war, meaning that a decision I made for an entirely different purpose ended up helping bring peace to the world.”

He grinned. “Sure 'nough.”

She stood up and started stacking items back on the shelves at the front of the greenhouse. “I’ll be impressed if any of the Avatar’s friends survive, never mind end the war.”

The gong for lunch sounded. She was disappointed to hear it. As daft as Huu’s ideas could be, talking to him was interesting.

He said, “I think you’re gonna be impressed when this is all over.”

“I’m not holding my breath.”


	13. Chapter 13

The attacks were a turning point in the relationship between Ty Lee and the Kyoshi Warriors and Mai and Huu. Ty Lee’s interaction with the Earth Kingdom girls shifted from polite but distant to something approaching real friendship, although the Warriors were not as ready to be best friends as Ty Lee was. Mai and Huu started having regular conversations on work duty.

He told her stories about the Foggy Swamp, how he guarded his home with plant bending and attained enlightenment while sitting underneath the banion grove tree. She wasn’t sure what being enlightened actually meant, but it seemed to involve believing that many things were illusions. Personally, she believed that many things were bullshit, but that didn’t seem to be quite the same thing.

She told Huu about her boring life as a government minister’s daughter. He always seemed genuinely interested, asking her questions about little details of life in the Fire Nation, like what fire flakes tasted like and what kinds of flowers grew in her mother's garden.

They talked about spirits. She said, “It’s superstition—the spirit world, auras, whatever. They don’t exist.”

He grinned. “You know, Ty Lee can see auras.”

“She told you that?” Mai rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I believe it. It’s how she got started chi blockin’. She can see how energy runs through people’s bodies.”

Mai blinked. “What?”

“That’s what an aura is, you know. It’s chi pokin’ out around somebody.”

For the first time, Mai wondered if Ty Lee’s aura talk wasn’t just a ploy to get attention.

She told him the story of Zuko’s banishment, his return, and his leaving. Old anger at receiving that letter flared in her—less sharp, less hot, but still smoldering. She wasn’t surprised that Huu thought Zuko joining the Avatar was a good thing, but he disapproved of the boy announcing it to her by letter.

He said, “The advantage to not havin’ readin' and writin’ in the swamp is that folks have to say important things to each other’s faces.”

“I still can’t believe he did it.”

Huu looked thoughtful. “I reckon maybe he didn’t have the stomach to confront you and his father on the same day.” She laughed bitterly. “What would you have done if he’d gone to you?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. I wouldn’t have _killed_ him. Try to talk some sense into him, maybe. It doesn’t matter now.”

“You still care about him.”

She sighed. “It would be easier if I didn’t.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand and cut him off. “And don’t say I’ll see him again when the Avatar ends the war. You don’t know the Avatar will win. Even if he does, you don’t know that Zuko won’t get killed.”

Zuko certainly wasn’t going to rescue her, like the Water Tribe boy rescued the redhead. After all, this was all about the Fire Nation, not her. At this point, she would be insulted if he did show up to 'save' her. A dashing rescue would not make up for the fact that he left her--and not because he just didn't want to be with her anymore, or had found someone else--without even telling her.

It was still hard to think about never, ever seeing him again.

Huu said quietly, “No, I don’t _know_. But it doesn’t hurt to hope.”

She thought ‘ _No, it doesn’t hurt to hope—it just hurts when hope is shattered_.’

Sozin’s Comet marched closer. There had been no confirmed Avatar sightings for weeks. All kinds of rumors swirled around the prison. The Avatar had been captured but was being held secretly so the news could be announced on the night of the comet to enhance the drama. The Avatar had gone to the spirit world to gather a spirit army to fight the Fire Nation. The Avatar was building a secret tunnel underneath the capital city.

Whatever the Avatar was actually doing, he had vanished.

Mai found herself thinking more and more about the war. Alone in her cell night after night, conversations with people from the Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom lingering in her ears, she wondered whether the Fire Nation had achieved its stated goal of bringing peace and prosperity to the rest of the world. She wondered whether peace and prosperity was still the goal, or if simple conquest had usurped it. Or, perhaps, the two had always been joined together. She heard her mother’s voice: ‘ _Don’t worry, don’t ask questions, just enjoy being treated like royalty_.’ Well, she wasn’t being treated like royalty anymore, so it was probably time to ask questions.

She came to the hardest one: ‘ _What if the war is wrong?_ ’ If the war was wrong, then that meant the Fire Nation was wrong, and—although she didn’t like to admit it—she was wrong as well. This disturbing line of thought had driven Zuko to the Avatar, and now that she began to feel the weight of the question, she began to understand his actions better. _He_ would think there was some way to right even a wrong of this magnitude. She didn’t know if anything ever could.

Two days before the comet, Mai and Huu were pollinating another set of orchids, the most bizarre looking yet. These were shaped like slippers—purple on the outside, white on the inside—with pale green wings at the top. She had no idea where Warden Poon found some of these weird things.

She said, “The Avatar still hasn’t made his move.”

Huu answered with calm assurance, “He will.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“The world is out of balance," he replied. "Whenever that happens, whatever the cause, nature has ways of correctin’ it. It may take a good long while—nature doesn’t operate on our schedule—but it always happens.”

She carefully brushed the flower's stigma with her stick. “But the Avatar is a _person_ , not some natural force.”

“More like, a natural force wrapped up in a person.” He moved his stool slightly to better reach the next orchid in the row. “The Avatar is the embodiment of the spirit of the world. The elements are a part of the world, and so are people.”

She considered that for a moment, and said, “Okay, let’s say for the sake of argument that the Avatar defeats the Fire Lord. Well, then what? We’re not going to instantly get world peace.”

“Well, of course not," he said, staring on his next flower. "If you cut down a forest of ancient trees and plant new ones, it’ll be a long time before you get another forest, maybe a lifetime, maybe more. But the thing about nature is that if you plant new trees, you _will_ get a new forest.”

She flicked a finger at the green winglike part of the orchid, sending it bobbing up and down. “What if people don’t _want_ , as you say, a new forest? What if they don’t want peace, after everything that’s happened?”

Huu shook his head. “I’m not gonna say people don’t hate and hold grudges and want revenge. They do. But the thing about hate and revenge is spendin’ all your energy on ‘em makes it hard to _live_. And at the end of the day, most folks just wanna live their lives.”

A fat ladybug landed on the flower he was tending. He reached for it.

She made a disgusted noise. "Do _not_ eat that in front of me."

Huu brushed the bug away and assured her, "Oh, you wouldn't want to eat that. Too small--all wing and shell and no meat." A look of disappointment crossed his face as he added, "I ain't seen any good eatin' bugs yet in the Fire Nation."

She turned away from him for a moment while her breakfast re-settled in her stomach.

He continued, in a musing tone, “Problem is, people in different countries don’t know and don’t trust each other. If they could meet, and really _see_ each other, they’d find all the connections between ‘em. They’d know they’re all just folks and they don’t have to fear each other and fight all the time.”

Mai remarked, “Most people aren’t willing to sit down and talk to people they think are strange.” The irony in her statement was not lost on her. She never would have expected to be sitting and talking with a guy who thought bugs were good eating. But then she never expected to end up in prison either.

He said, “Maybe, maybe not. But the folks who are willin' have to lead the way.”

She stopped poking her orchid to look at him. “That’s why you talk to Fire Nation inmates.”

Huu chuckled. “You can find people willin’ to talk—and listen—in surprising places. I bet you can find people willin’ to work for peace in surprising places too.”

“Is that what you would do, if you got out of here?”

“When I get out of here, I’m goin’ home," he said firmly. "But whatever I can do to help folks see the world for what it is—one, big, living organism, everyone and everythin’ in it sharin’ life together—I’ll do it." He looked at her, smiling, and asked, "Now, what will you do—or, if you rather—what _would_ you do if you got outta here?”

Mai turned back to her plant. “I’m not interested in hypothetical questions.”

“There must be somethin’.”

The ladybug landed on her orchid, and she shooed it away. She sighed. “I have no idea.”

Although she didn’t believe she ever would be released, the question lingered in the back of her mind. Lying in bed waiting for sleep to come, she tried to answer it. She pushed away serious thoughts—whether Zuko would still be alive, whether war would still be raging, whether Azula would track her down and kill her. This was simply to entertain herself.

She didn’t really have a home anymore, so she couldn’t go there. Seeking revenge on Azula was a possibility, but her enthusiasm for the idea was short-lived. This was a fantasy of what she _wanted_ to do. She balked at centering her hypothetical post-prison life around the Princess, just like her pre-prison life.

She wondered what it would be like to have a new life—a new identity—to disappear and re-invent herself. Plots from old adventure stories circulated in her head: becoming a bounty hunter, a pirate, a soldier-of-fortune. But those scenarios didn’t hold much enticement for her anymore. She had acted as a bounty hunter with Azula, traversing the Earth Kingdom in pursuit of the Avatar. There had been exciting moments, but most of the time it was boring, just endless traveling and waiting to find a sign of their quarry. Piracy and mercenaryhood were probably not as thrilling in real life as they were in stories either. And piracy was illegal, a fact she had never paid attention to before being sentenced to prison.

Something else about the prospect of vanishing bothered her: it felt cowardly. Her parents may be content to run away in shame from their entire lives, but she was not, no matter what she had done.

In the long run, going to the ends of the earth probably wouldn't make a difference anyway. No matter where she settled, she wouldn’t really be free. In time, she would end up wearing another mask, embedded in another web of people trying to control her.

Since this was a fantasy, she could go back to her old life: the Prince's girlfriend, one of the Princess's closest friends. But even in her head, she couldn't make herself fit into her old role. She felt like she was stuck in a maze--she couldn't back track to the start and she couldn't find the way forward. Every way she turned was another dead end.

She didn't really know what she wanted to do.

Tired of pondering pointless questions, she curled up to go to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. Thanks for reading!

Sozin’s Comet arrived.

The excitement in the prison was palpable. Many of the Fire Nation inmates had random outbursts of patriotism throughout the day, like several tables singing _The Flame Burns Forever_ at breakfast, with some of the guards joining in. Others were subdued, seeming to have fallen into a reflective, almost reverential mood.

The war prisoners were nervous. Most were still hopeful the Avatar would strike, but notes of desperation sounded in the conviction. Low voiced conversations expressed concern for family and friends back home. Concern for what would happen to the war prisoners themselves after the comet passed went unspoken, but lingered in the air. Today, most of the Fire Nation inmates were too preoccupied with enjoying as close to a holiday as they would ever get to pay much attention to anything else. But what would they do tomorrow?

Everyone—prisoners, guards, even the Warden—gathered in the exercise yard to see the comet dawn. If this assembly had been anywhere else but a prison, there would have been speeches, banners, music, a procession.

The crowd was hushed and awed as the sky turned red. Ty Lee gasped. The Kyoshi Warriors gripped each others' hands. Bato and the Water Tribesmen bowed their heads in unison, silently praying or meditating or maybe cursing their luck.

Mai turned her eyes to the ground, not wanting to watch any of it.

Poon wasn’t going to let the comet derail the entire prison schedule--or give the fire bending convicts time to start wanting to test their strength--so inmates were locked back in their cells for the night. Mai lay awake for a long time, worries competing for her attention.

She had come to like Huu and was sorry that his hope for peace would soon be crushed. He was a calm, stable person, but the Avatar failing would be a devastating blow. She hoped he wouldn't stop talking to her. She worried that, with the comet gone and the war over, Azula would come back for her and Ty Lee. No one would be able to protect them from the Princess, not her uncle, not the Kyoshi Warriors, not Huu. She wondered if her parents and brother would be safe in exile. And she wondered if this was the night Zuko would die.

Eventually, she drifted to sleep, her fitful dreams circling the same questions, marking them with blue fire and red blood.

A hand squeezed her shoulder, a voice whispering, “Mai.”

She jolted awake, alarmed. Her uncle crouched over her. He said, “Get up. We’re leaving.”

She leaped out of bed. “What are you doing here?”

He stood up. “I’m taking you back to the Boiling Rock.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

She saw Warden Poon standing in the hall through her open cell door. “What’s going on?”

Her uncle answered, “Chaos.” He turned to Poon and said, “Wake the other girl. We don’t have much time.” Poon opened and entered Ty Lee’s cell. Mai fumbled for her shoes. “We’ve had a dire turn of events tonight, Mai." He paused, as though steeling himself to continue. "The Avatar faced the Fire Lord, and...the Fire Lord was defeated.”

She dropped her shoes. “ _What?_ ”

“I don’t know the details of what happened, but there was a battle on the west Earth Kingdom coast. Fire Lord Ozai dueled the Avatar and lost." He took a breath. "And that's not all. The airship fleet was destroyed."

Her brain crashed into a wall. This was _impossible_. Everyone knew the Fire Nation was invincible when Sozin’s Comet came—the Fire Lord was invincible. It took her a moment to collect herself enough to speak. “Fire Lord Ozai is dead.”

Her uncle shook his head, looking like he scarcely believed what he was saying himself. “There are reports that he is alive. But I...don’t know if that’s true.”

“Where did you hear these things?”

“News went out to the Home Guard and other select parties. I called for an airship as soon as I heard. But that’s not all.” His expression darkened. “Prince Zuko returned to the capital and fought an Agni Kai with Princess Azula. The duel was so ferocious many people fled the city. He was badly wounded.”

Her eyes welled with tears; her throat closed up. She pressed her hands against her face. This was the future she had dreaded for so long, and it came true even with the Avatar’s apparent victory.

Zuko was dead.

Her pounding heart muffled her uncle’s next words. “But the Prince was saved. Healed by a water bender girl—you know, the one who fights with the Avatar.” She dropped her hands, staring. Her uncle added with a raised brow, “I always thought the healing power of water benders was a myth.”

Mai dimly remembered Azula saying the ability to heal was the most dangerous aspect of water bending. She cleared her throat. “He won?”

Izo’s voice was both scornful and anxious. “Yes. It is expected Prince Zuko will be crowned Fire Lord tomorrow.”

She reached out a hand behind her, touching the wall. She wasn't sure if it was the cell or her that was threatening to start spinning. “Is the Princess still alive?” Her voice sounded strange, like she was listening to someone else speak with her mouth.

Her uncle nodded, then lowered his voice, leaning closer to Mai. “It seems she has been acting...erratically. She laid banishments on the _entire_ palace staff.”

She blinked. “How do you know this?”

“I spoke to one of the palace guards. They have Princess Azula in custody.”

Mai felt something snapping inside her, but she couldn’t say what it was—possibly her sanity. She needed to sit down and spend a few hours, or perhaps days, thinking about everything she had just been told. Her uncle was standing in her cell, ready to take her away from this prison; the Avatar had defeated Fire Lord Ozai; Azula was under arrest; and Zuko was alive and supposed to be crowned the next Fire Lord.

She heard a squeal of shock from Ty Lee next door. Apparently her friend had heard the news too.

Her uncle asked, “Mai, are you all right?”

“Yes. I just—this is unbelievable. Are you sure Zuko is okay?’

Izo looked irritated. “ _Yes_. He’s at the palace, preparing for the coronation. Now, are you ready to go, or are we going to stand here talking until the city burns down?”

In the corridor, the two wardens nodded to each other. Poon exited the cellblock. Ty Lee popped out of her cell and wrapped her arms around Mai, crying. “We’re getting out! We’re getting out!”

Mai hushed her. “Don’t make so much noise. You’ll wake everyone up.” There would probably be a riot when the inmates heard what happened. She hoped the war prisoners would be all right.

Ty Lee turned to hug Izo, but stopped herself at his glare.

As they walked down the hall, Mai started to recover her ability to think. She asked, “How exactly are we free?”

Her uncle’s lips curled in a half smile. “The Princess was the one who imprisoned you. She has since been incarcerated herself. I visited the head of the Tribunal and suggested that, given these circumstances, your sentences should be re-considered. I also swore I would keep you out of trouble during the appeal.”

“And he approved?”

“He was in such a rush to evacuate, I could have suggested the inmates here have a party at his house and he would have approved.”

Mai was impressed. “You could have gone into politics yourself.”

“Don’t say that.” He shuddered slightly. “I’m only protecting my interests in a time of national calamity. Of course, if Prince Zuko _is_ crowned, I expect he will pardon both of you, making an appeal unnecessary.”

“What did you offer Poon for not getting in the way?”

A touch of humor ghosted his face as he answered, “We’re taking the most rare and valuable of his orchids out of the city, where they will be safe from whatever may happen here.”

She gawked at her uncle. “He was willing to trade us for _flowers_?”

“Everyone has their price," he shrugged. "For some people, that price is…unusual.”

They reached the inner gate. As a guard opened it, Ty Lee bounced in place. “I’m going to go home and surprise everybody!”

Izo said sternly, “You’re not going home. You’re coming to the Boiling Rock with me.”

Ty Lee’s lower lip wobbled. “ _Why?_ ”

“It’s not safe here. Your family, if they’re smart, will have left.” Seeing the tears forming in Ty Lee’s eyes, he quickly added, “You won’t be prisoners. You’ll stay in my house until the situation here has settled down.”

When they reached the outer gate, Ty Lee waved cheerfully to the guards. She said, “Oh, I didn’t see Ming. I wanted to say goodbye to her.”

They stepped outside. Sunrise tinged the horizon pale pink gold. Mai said abruptly, “I’m not leaving.”

Her uncle began, “Niece…”

She held up a hand. “Hear me out, please. I know it’s dangerous. I’m not afraid. I don’t want to run and hide while other people decide what’s going to happen.”

Her uncle frowned. “You’re going to see Prince Zuko, aren’t you?” He looked like he was about to launch into a lecture.

“Yes," she admitted. "But that’s not all. I owe a debt to a—friend.”

Izo sighed. “I can’t stop you from staying without using force, can I?”

“No.”

“I’ll come with you, then.”

“No. You should go back to the Boiling Rock. You know there’s going to be trouble there when the news spreads.” She bowed. “I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me, Uncle, but you should take care of your other obligations.”

He scowled. “I’d feel better about this if you were at least armed.”

“I can take care of that with a stop at my house.”

Ty Lee, looking resolute, said, “I’m staying too.” She touched Mai’s arm. “We’ll look out for each other. Don’t worry.”

Her uncle said, “If you change your mind, it’ll be a little while until I go. I doubt they're done loading Poon’s orchids onto the airship.” He rolled his eyes.

Mai bowed again; Ty Lee followed suit. “Thank you, Uncle. I’ll see you again soon, under better circumstances.”

Looking skeptical, he reluctantly returned to the prison.

The stillness in the capital was eerie. Even in the middle of a winter night, the city was never utterly silent like this. The streets and most of the houses around the Fire Lord’s palace were deserted. The palace itself looked deserted. All over were signs of ferocious fighting: shattered windows, burnt trees and shrubs, broken statues, smashed walls. Most of the street lights were dark. The windows on the front of Mai’s house had been blasted in, the outer walls blackened, and large stretches of tile torn from the roof.

She couldn’t believe all this damage came from _two_ fire benders.

Since there was no sign of current trouble, Ty Lee went to search for her family. Mai, stepping carefully over broken glass, looked around inside her house. Her parents clearly left in a hurry. Most of their clothes still hung in the wardrobes, toys littered the nursery floor, stacks of papers sat on her father’s desk. Everything was dusty. The garden behind the house hadn’t been tended in weeks. For a moment, she was annoyed at how much work it would take to fix up, then remembered she wouldn’t have to do it herself.

Except for the broken windows, her room was the same as when she set out for the Boiling Rock. Gazing at the empty spot on the wall where the portrait of her and Zuko used to hang, she felt like she’d been away for many years. After finding that letter, she’d ripped the picture to shreds. She wasn’t sorry. So much had happened since that day, she couldn’t miss a drawing.

After dressing and doing her hair, she opened the storage chest at the bottom of her closet. It felt good to strap on her wrist and ankle sheaths again, load them with arrows, and select fine steel blades to conceal in hidden pockets. When she was done, she glanced in the mirror. She looked like her old self again, but she felt different—she felt better.

Part of her believed she should not feel pleased on the morning after the most shocking defeat in Fire Nation history. Avoiding the glass on the floor, she went to the window and looked up and down the street. Strong morning sunlight blazed gold in the sky. All of the buildings were damaged, but all were still standing. Palace guards filed toward their posts at the main gate, a sign of returning normalcy within. A few of her neighbors had emerged and were cautiously looking around outside. She could hear Minister Meung complaining loudly to his wife about how expensive glass was.

There were no enemy troops, no Avatar come to punish with tidal waves and earthquakes. There weren't even any looters. The Fire Nation had failed, and failed at the very hour it was supposedly destined to win the entire world. But the country seemed to be very far from being destroyed.

Mai thought about the idea that people—even those who did not wield enormous physical and political power like the Fire Lord or the Avatar—could change the world with their choices. A new Fire Lord who wanted peace would take the throne, partly because of her choice. When she faced Azula, she had believed both she and Zuko would die. At that moment, she thought she would be the lucky one, dying first and quickly.

But other people made choices too, and they both still lived.

She smiled. Knowing she had done something, however small, that changed the course of the world was almost unbelievable. She realized now what it was that snapped inside her when she learned that the impossible had happened—that the Avatar had turned the entire world upside down. What broke wasn’t her sanity, but the chains that had bound her to the will of others—her parents, Azula—and to the idea that power and perfection were all that mattered. She may live in a web, interconnected with the world, but she could choose which connections to strengthen or sever. And, if she tried, she could shake the whole damned thing.

For the first time in her life, she felt she could do what _she_ wanted, and that what she wanted mattered.

So, what _did_ she want to do?

As soon as she could, she wanted to see Zuko, although she was conflicted about what to say when she saw him. She wanted to know what he had been doing all the time he was gone, and what he planned to do now. She wanted to tell him--without being interrupted--how much he’d hurt her by leaving like he did, and that his triumph in the end did not negate the wrong he did her. But most of all, she wanted to hug him and kiss him and finally tell him she loved him. Well, she wasn’t sure she was ready for that last part today, but she wanted to say it.

There was also the issue of his safety at the moment. She went to prison to save his life; she wasn’t about to let some assassin take it.

Another thing she wanted to do as soon as possible: thank the water bender girl for healing Zuko. The two of them had been enemies, and she didn’t expect they would suddenly be friends, but she was grateful that Zuko’s new friends had indeed watched his back while she wasn’t around. She owed the girl—the name _Katara_ popped into her mind—a debt.

She owed Huu a debt as well, not just for saving her from a prison gang, but for being her friend. He was a daft old man, and she didn’t understand half of the cosmic spirit stuff he talked, but she was glad to know him. He helped prepare her for this day that she never believed would come.

Also, if Zuko hadn’t pardoned the war prisoners yet, she would tell him to do so. Huu may believe time and death and control were illusions, but since the Avatar won, he’d want to get out of jail already.

As for the Avatar, she wanted to meet him and see for herself who he was and what he was doing. Was he really, as his supporters said, dedicated to keeping peace and balance in the world? For so long, she had been taught that the Avatar was the enemy, trying to amass power for himself by keeping the world shackled in superstition, and she couldn’t help being suspicious. But she was willing to talk and to listen to him.

Looking out of her broken window at the broken glass and bricks littering the street, she thought of one more thing she wanted to do. That she needed to do, if all the other things she did now and in the future were to have meaning—to be more than her reacting to outside forces. She had rejected the idea of running away after getting out of prison, but she realized now that, by refusing to care about anything, she had been running away without going anywhere her entire life. She wanted to stop running. Compared to that, everything else would be easy.

She turned away from the window. The sun was climbing higher into the sky, and it was time to go.

When she had done everything she wanted to do now, she would figure out what she wanted to do next.


End file.
